Caught with my pants down!

I took the girls out to eat on Saturday. We went to their favorite restaurant (that we don't have in WI, so haven't been to in forever) - O'Charley's. Our meal was uneventful, until dessert. We ordered the caramel pie to split.

I have already told you all about my bathroom issues in a previous blog entry. I am still off the medication, and doing ok, but sometimes the attacks come on quick - you can't always rush home to go in peace...and this was one of those times. I left the credit card with the girls and told them to give it to the server - I was going to the bathroom.

As is my custom when I have to do a big job in public, I chose the last stall in the bathroom. As is usually the case, this happens to be the handicapped stall. No biggie, I think. I was even pleasantly surprised (don't be too grossed out here) to find that a woman and her toddler were leaving the stall after changing a nasty diaper, so no one would even attribute any foul odor to me.

All is progressing well until I hear the door open and the obvious sounds of a lady shuffling along using a walker. What?! I have never actually seen someone who truly needed the handicapped stall in a bathroom before (or at least can't readily recall any such situation). The lady tries my door and I have to give the nice reply, "Someone's in hear" while feeling totally guilty for taking up this stall and making this poor lady wait! Plus now, I am interrupted, so I am also a little perturbed at how I would finish with an audience!! (I told you that I have serious issues with public pooing!)

As if this interruption isn't bad enough, I hear a voice call, "Mom?" It is unmistakeably Morgan's. "Yes," I answer. At this point she proceeds to go into the stall next to mine and says, "Here," and hands to me, under the stall, the bill and pen to sign it with! I could have died! What on earth made her bring this into the restroom?! So as not to cause any disturbance with the handicapped lady who is patiently waiting for my stall, I just take the darn thing and start to seethe.

Now, I don't know about you, but I do not want any person seeing me exit the bathroom with the bill and the pen. I mean, who does that? So I do the only logical (to me) thing, I stick it in my waist-band and hide it under my shirt! So I quickly get up from my job (which I am obviously going to have to finish at home) and exit the stall. I wash my hands and return to the table. Where I promptly begin to berate the girls for sending me the bill in the bathroom! Morgan said Jordan told her to do it [as a side note, this is always how it goes down, Jordan thinks of the ideas, and Morgan carries them out!] and that they didn't want to wait for me to come out of the bathroom! Morgan said she thought I would sign it (where, on my knee?) and give it back to her. I nicely pointed out that even if they had a signed bill, I had the car keys and drivers' license, so where exactly did they think they were going??

The moral of the story: Never use the pen offered by the server - you never know how many trips to the ladies' room it has made!