| rev:text
| - Whipped in here while running errands for bathroom & burger. Bathroom first.
There's a sign on the men's room door: "Men's Bathroom broken, sorry for the inconvenience." Or something like that. Looks as though the sign has been in place for quite some time.
OK, there's no room for error here, I need to take care of #1 business pronto, so I peek into the ladies' room. The coast is clear. There's no lock on the door. Well, if a lady opens the door, she's going to clearly see me standing at the toilet, with my back facing her. She'll figure it out and wait outside until I'm done. And I'm going to be done & gone in 90 seconds anyway.
So no harm, no foul.
Or so I thought.
Mid-stream, in darts the store manager, a short, quite-stocky young woman.
Apparently she saw me head into the ladies' head - - and she's come in to investigate.
The manager says "You can't be in here." I say "Well you don't have a men's room. And it's a little late for me to be walking out now."
Then the manager says "You are disrespecting women by being in here."
AHA! NOW we are at the crux of the manager's concern. Political correctness.
This manager thinks it's unfair for a lady to have to wait her turn under these circumstances. (As if people in this world have never had to wait their turn for a bathroom.)
Oh no, being a man, I should just go wet myself in the middle of the restaurant - rather than POSSIBLY cause a lady to have to wait her turn. It's not men & women equal - in her mind, it's women above men. This attitude may also explain why this manager hasn't bothered to fix the men's toilet in the first place.
But the sword of political correctness always bears a second edge - for those who know how to use it.
I say "But I AM a woman. I am a pre-op transgender woman. Who just happens to be dressed as a man today."
Silence. Utter, glorious, satisfying silence.
I finish my b-room business and leave for the counter, while the manager remains, her brain seized up by the endlessly-looping, Möbius-strip logic of my response.
When I get outside, both the young girl at the register and the guy cooking in the back are both rolling with laughter. Apparently they heard it all. And apparently they are sick of working under a manager toting this kind of attitude.
I get my two-double-cheeses-in-a-poke and leave. The burgers, btw, were AOK for a Carl's. And the girl threw me a 10% discount.
Thank goodness I don't live anywhere near this neighborhood; I'll never have to return to this joint again.
OK Ms. Manager, here's the straight-talk:
It's the law. You serve food, so you are required to have working bathrooms. So fix the d@mn bathroom. And then you won't have men causing women to suffer these supposed indignities.
And if you can't figure out how to fix the bathroom - - then get your butt over to Home Depot, spend $2 out of petty cash and buy a manual bolt-action door lock and screw it onto the inside of the door. Then make a sign that says "Unisex Bathroom" to stick on the outside of the door.
Instead of lurking in wait to verbally crucify any man who dares to take a whiz on the premises.
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