Right after the opera is over and the lights in the theatre go up people rush to the door. At least half of them 'funny walk' as they go down the ramp and turn left towards the washroom. Being in a room of people of 'mature years' means that there is a hush throughout the performance, no cell phones go off and about half fall asleep midway through the first act. It also means the the bathroom is a full before the credits start to roll.
Like everyone else we headed to the washroom and I was first in line sitting outside the disabled loo and Joe went to the men's room. The line up for the women's washroom was incredible. I remembered my mother once saying that the best birth control for a woman was to put a nickle between her knees and to keep it there without falling. Most women in the line up looked like they had followed that advice.
Two women, who must have had 160 years between them, were waiting in line both frustrated at the 'men' who designed women's washrooms. One of them said, 'Oh let's just go, my place is only five minutes from here.' They both stepped out of the line up and at least 20 women stepped forward with an aggressive kind of greediness that comes about in long lines.
As they passed by me the other woman said, 'But oh my I have to go.' Her companion immediately did an about face and headed back to a line up that they would have had to use a crowbar to get back into. Her friend said, 'No, it's ok, let's go.'
'If you have to go, you have to go,' she said, insisting.
'It's alright, I'm fully dressed,' she said.
'I'm FULLY DRESSED,' she repeated in a whisper.
'Oh, OH,' said her friend, and after a pause said, 'I am too, the opera can be long.'
They walked away and as they passed me they started to giggle like schoolgirls, by the time they rounded the corner and headed to the door they were laughing out loud.
I learned something as I sat there outside the can. That's how you get through this life, with a sense of humour, a touch of class and a little bit of planning.