Confession Time

There is a practice of mine that I fear I need to confess of. Don't judge me.

I am about 96.3 percent sure that I have a phobia of public stalls. Not bathrooms mind you, but stalls. That small confined place gives me the heebeegeeebees. And I want to know whose idea it was to make the stall doors open inward. Hello. You are jammed in there tight enough without having to finagle a way around a door in order to exit. Or maybe I'm just too big for stalls. Cripes...

Anyway, my confession is this. I rob handicap people of their rightful stalls. Tonight, this practice bit me in the rear. As I entered the bathroom at Chilis I was the only occupant. Thank heavens. I picked my regular oversized stall and took care of some things. As I went to leave the stall I opened the door only to discover two large disapproving elderly women glaring at me. I had stolen their stall of choice and they were forced to either use a normal one, heaven forbid, or wait. They chose to wait. Not my problem, and yet I feel slightly guilty. Meh.