I went my way, he went his and that's when things got a little interesting. While my husband stood attending to business, an elderly woman, bent and clutching her purse to her chest ambled in behind him, entered the stall and locked the door.
Anyone who knows my husband would laugh out loud right now. I'm not sure what the Kentucky equivalent of the Blarney Stone is but I’m sure my husband has kissed it several times. In Ireland, it’s claimed to bestow the gift of eloquence. Here we call it the art of BS. My husband is a grand master. He's also a prankster and if he likes you, he'll aggravate you to no end. On the other hand, if he doesn't like you, there'll be no doubt left in your mind about that either. But I know that old bear to be a truly soft-hearted man even though he’d be the last to admit it.
Since he was the only male in the restroom, he finished up, washed his hands and rushed to block the door. Soon another man approached and the scene unfolded something like this.
"You can't go in there."
"Why not?"
"There's a lady in there."
"You’re kidding."
"No. She's just a little confused. She'll be out in a minute."
"Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll wait."
By the time I finished up and made my way out of the women’s restroom, my husband and two other men stood waiting outside the door.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“We can’t go yet,” he replied and explained the situation.
At that moment, the door swung open. She excused herself as she toddled between us and shuffled her way down the hall.
I hope when I’m older and a bit confused there’s someone to watch the door for me.
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