Before I've even entered a restaurant, I fret over the location of the bathroom. Restaurants enjoy hiding their restrooms so that you have to wander about, sometimes finding yourself in the kitchen before someone sets you straight. This is how the restaurant staff gets back at you for making them feed you. I hate this. I hate walking around with that look on my face. That "I'm acting as I know exactly where I'm going, and I'm about to march straight into a supply closet" look. And then there are the places that can't just indicate "Men" and "Women" on their separate bathroom doors. They have to get cute about it. And you standing in front of the two doors, wondering, "Damn it all, am I a 'Buckaroo' or a 'Cowpoke'?"
Fortunately, my initial worry was alleviated right off the bat. Before I had even sat down, the waitress saw my haunted I Touched Subway expression and pointed me toward the restrooms. She was clearly new at her job, and hadn't learned to loathe us.
The bathroom door had a W on it, which I swear I hesitated about for half a second. "Is that 'Women,' or 'Whoa, This Room's for Dudes'?" I wondered. This was a classy establishment, however, so I was fairly confident in my decision as I strode in.
Here's what happened next. As I was closing the door to one of the stalls, I got my shoe stuck underneath it. I looked down at the shoe and the stall door and tried to figure out how I had managed to wedge my foot in such a painful manner, and I pulled on the door, hard, which is when it came loose and slammed into the front of my skull. I then fell back, where the toilet was, and had to fling both arms out to brace myself against the sides of the stall. Which caused my leather-soled flats to slide on the tiled floor, just enough that I landed, hard, right on the toilet seat. This all happened in a few seconds. WEDGE-SLAM-FALL-BRACE-WHOOPS-THUD. It was fantastic. My head hurt a lot.
I was inexpressibly thankful that I was alone, and no one had witnessed this ludicrous display. (Nor did anyone see me attempt to close the door again, once I had recovered, and find that the door wouldn't latch, and then go to the next stall, and then the next, before realizing the mechanism that latched the door was a turn-y thing and not a pull-y whatsit. I blame the head trauma for this.)
I swore no one would ever know of my embarrassing episode, so naturally I immediately told my lunch date. And then I got home and told Scott and Henry. And now I am telling you.
I find it's always a little bit less embarrassing if I can tell as many people as possible about an embarrassing moment I had. This way I've turned my own private shame into a funny story I can share -- from total idiot to life of the party in thirty seconds flat!
Posted by: Ashley | August 25, 2010 at 05:51 PM
It's cool. I TOTALLY won't tell. :p
Posted by: thepsychobabble | August 25, 2010 at 05:51 PM
And thrilled I am that you told me because I am whistle laughing like an old lady at the mental picture of your calamity. This is what blogging is all about if you ask me, sharing those things we would never tell another living soul. People in their computers aren't real anyway.
Posted by: Helen | August 25, 2010 at 05:52 PM
You know what pisses me off? On top of all the germs we get from riding the subway, we now have to worry about those damned BED BUGS.
This has become my new fear. I think about every time I'm out. They will run me out of town, they will.
I'm happy to hear you survived the fall. We've all had a few horrible NYC bathroom experiences. (Speaking of which: avoid the Dunkin Donuts on 2nd Avenue and 34th street. I had to use it to pee on day and I haven't been the same since.)
Posted by: mihow | August 25, 2010 at 05:55 PM
Funny! And painful, ouch. And spot on about the dreaded powder-room search - you're right, the restaurant staff are always so superior about it. Not the kitchen staff, though, who always have a shocked caught-in-the-act reaction to being burst in upon by caught-short diners. They can't be in on the game. I imagine it's a hierarchy thing.
I once flushed my hire-car keys down a public toilet in a painful-in-its-own-way clumsiness event: http://travelskite.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-state-in-banana-state.html
Posted by: TravelSkite | August 25, 2010 at 05:55 PM
God, that was funny.
I feel like far too many New York restaurants hide their bathrooms down a too-steep, too-rickety, too-slanted, too-dark staircase, and even then you have to go through some kind of rabbit warren to find them, and then there are the gender-ambiguous signs that you mentioned, and THEN the bathroom itself is so small your knees are up against the door while you're peeing, which makes you want to go home and shower.
This is why I rarely leave the house anymore.
Posted by: Lawyerish | August 25, 2010 at 05:58 PM
That is hysterical. I can totally picture it and I'm happy that you like to share your particular brand of crazy with us.
Posted by: Michelle | August 25, 2010 at 05:59 PM
There must be some sort of calculable relationship between the fanciness of any establishment and the likely of having a calamitous personal mishap within. I once tripped at a cocktail event in Manhattan and managed to throw an entire glass of red wine into my own face. I was reduced to wandering the restaurant blind, in desperate search for a napkin and/or an escape chute.
Posted by: Margaret | August 25, 2010 at 06:10 PM
The stalls at my law school are short. If you are above 5'5", your head pops up when you stand up.
I am constantly making awkward eye contact with other girls as they pull their pants up because we can see over the stalls.
Yeah, it kind of sucks.
(I mean, as long as we are sharing bathroom things.)
Posted by: Kate | August 25, 2010 at 06:13 PM
Kate, I once visited a bathroom wherein you could see over the door if you were *sitting*. That was awkward.
Posted by: Alice Bradley | August 25, 2010 at 06:16 PM
Usually when something like that happens to me it tends to wrench my head backwards on my neck. I call it DIY Chiropractic.
Posted by: feefifoto | August 25, 2010 at 06:39 PM
Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, but I am laughing too hard to be properly sympathetic. Sounds like just the kind of thing I'd do.
Posted by: angelawd | August 25, 2010 at 06:59 PM
I can hardly breathe I'm laughing so hard - my husband asked if everything was ok. Oh lordy. I think I find it so funny because it could totally be ME in that stall doing that slapstick.
Posted by: The Bug | August 25, 2010 at 07:27 PM
Oh & Margaret's wine story just sent me right back over the edge. If laughter is a healing thing then I am healed!
Posted by: The Bug | August 25, 2010 at 07:28 PM
This is what happens when you stop coloring your hair. The gods have spoken. I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
Posted by: Marinka | August 25, 2010 at 07:36 PM
If it makes you feel any better, that is something I would do. I am kind of surprised I haven't already!
I won't tell anyone. Actually I might, but in a nice way!
Posted by: Aunt Baaa | August 25, 2010 at 07:59 PM
All bathroom humor should be this good!
Posted by: WHOO ha ha ha hee he hhh | August 25, 2010 at 08:18 PM
They make the doors that shoe-sticking height on purpose. It's part of the aforementioned Loathing Plan, I believe.
Posted by: Kate | August 25, 2010 at 09:07 PM
This could have been so much worse, Alice. I was totally waiting for you to say that when you fell back onto the toilet, you managed to dunk your ass into the toilet water and had to leave the restaurant in a welter of freaked out shame and oogyness that your ass had touched public toilet water and was technically STILL touching it since you had no choice but to continue wearing the wet pants.
I am sorry that you hit your head, but I am HUGELY relieved that you didn't dunk your nether regions in that toilet... no matter HOW fancy.
Posted by: TitanKT | August 25, 2010 at 09:26 PM
Thank God for blogs. People such as myself probably looked at you business lunching at that restaurant and thought things like "Look at her! All put together and business lunching! Why can't I be more like her? Why must I be such a spaz?" Now, next time I see some put together lady looking all Normal, before I berate myself for being weird, I will imagine that that lady just assaulted herself in the bathroom and lived to tell the tale. (But for the record, I will probably be the one TitanKT described crawling out with a wet bum for the longest, soggiest subway ride in history)
Posted by: Em | August 25, 2010 at 11:04 PM
I'm still trying to figure out how the hell you got your foot stuck in the first place. Also, my husband just asked me if I'm ok because I'm laughing so hard!
Posted by: EOMama | August 26, 2010 at 12:21 AM
That's my strategy for embarrassing incidents, too. "Oh my god, no one can ever know this happened ... except the whole internet." It's always better if you can make yourself believe that everyone's laughing WITH you. :)
Posted by: Heather | August 26, 2010 at 01:01 AM
You poor thing (I say this through my laughter of course). I'm guessing that you scrubbed yourself extra hard after your face hit the toilet? I would have gone home and taken a shower at that point. :)
Posted by: Tabitha (From Single to Married) | August 26, 2010 at 07:34 AM
The great thing about you is that you tell people these things and they feel less alone about the insane shit they do. For instance: I was making Thanksgiving dinner for 10 people and I had a 26lb bird. Flipping it in the pan was ridiculous! At one point I had one foot on a chair, the other foot balanced on a cabinet, and I was cradling the super-hot giant turkey in my burning arms like a baby to prevent it from falling on the floor.
Thank you for sharing your Three-Stooges-like moments with the world!
Posted by: Leslie | August 26, 2010 at 08:30 AM
I am sorry about your embarrassing moment. *But* so appreciate you sharing it! Laughter & coffee is a great way to start the day! Thanks.
Posted by: Holly | August 26, 2010 at 08:36 AM
thank you, I just started the day crying with laughter. I mean! Crying for you! Because that's awful! Is your foot okay?
Posted by: Siobhan | August 26, 2010 at 08:42 AM
I love this post! You make me laugh so much, your writing is wonderful.
Posted by: Jessica | August 26, 2010 at 09:04 AM
There are so many moments in our lives when we have to be so thankful that we're not in our own version of the Truman Show.
Posted by: Cindy | August 26, 2010 at 09:08 AM
I suffer from a similar ailment, and experience, as a guy, something I call "Euphorinal": the unique feeling one gets when turning the corner in a bathroom and, upon seeing the urinal, thinks "oh thank god I'm not in the wrong place. Again."
Not sure exactly what the opposite would be called but I'm sure it would involve slamming heads on toilets, etc.
Posted by: Aaron Wolfe | August 26, 2010 at 09:24 AM
I ask the following with the requisite love and respect felt for a complete stranger who sometimes writes stuff: How do you live? How have you survived this long and, against all logic or will, continue to survive?
Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' | August 26, 2010 at 09:44 AM
Thanks, you made my day.
Posted by: Kate in Ohio | August 26, 2010 at 10:20 AM
to die for funny. I know the method of telling your own embarrassing moments before anyone else does, it works well. Thanks for the laugh.
Posted by: karen | August 26, 2010 at 11:10 AM
This needs to be a scene in Tina Fey's next movie. Thanks for sharing - we've all been there (in some way). :-)
Posted by: Bellacantare | August 26, 2010 at 11:15 AM
I should have peed before reading this. Now, we all know what happened on my end, too.
Posted by: califmom | August 26, 2010 at 11:19 AM
Yesterday I had to walk through a door labeled "Ovaries." Still not sure how I feel about that.
Posted by: Moose | August 26, 2010 at 11:20 AM
I knew as I started to read this story that I shouldn't read it at work and yet I did. So now I'm that person trying to surreptitiously wipe tears (real tears) from my eyes as my throat makes that "huh-huh-huh" silent, out of control laughter sound and my shoulders shake with each "huh".
Awesome story.
And now I must read it again, the tears and "huh"ing blurred some of the detail.
Posted by: Lori | August 26, 2010 at 12:51 PM
OW. Funny story, but still, OW.
Posted by: Elizabeth @ Table for Five | August 26, 2010 at 01:42 PM
@Aaron Wolfe - that's how I feel when I enter the women's restroom and see the tampon machine!
Posted by: Vanessa | August 26, 2010 at 02:32 PM
at least you weren't suddenly wearing eau de toilette when you joined your date.
Posted by: Meredith | August 26, 2010 at 02:40 PM
My Mum just asked me: "What are you cackling at?" She will be made to read this now. For it is brilliant.
Posted by: Sarah | August 26, 2010 at 02:55 PM
I have always told my children that the most embarrassing incidents make the very best stories. It is oh-so-awful at the time, but the years of story-telling mileage you will get out of it is priceless. And I know this because in middle school I got stuck inside my locker and had to be crow-barred out of it by the school janitor...in front of a packed hallway of rubber-necking students. Can you imagine stepping out of your locker wearing your coat and backpack and trying to look nonchalant? I'm still mortified, but boy do people love hearing about it!
Posted by: Kayte | August 26, 2010 at 03:25 PM
I love you.
Posted by: Katie | August 26, 2010 at 03:46 PM
Ow! (And I apologize for how much I laughed when I read it.)
Posted by: Average Jane | August 26, 2010 at 05:08 PM
I really, really needed a good laugh. Thanks. My kids think they're quite funny and in their own way, they are, but truly I was just laughing at the sight of you launching backwards onto a toilet. Lovely. I mean that in the nicest way possible.
Posted by: Meegan | August 26, 2010 at 07:54 PM
In my imagination as I picture this, you're dressed to the nines a la Patricia Neal in Breakfast at Tiffany's: sleek tailored suit, a perfectly shaped lipstick kiss, spotless gloves, marrrrrrrrvvvvvvelously chic hat, a shiny handbag slung lightly over your forearm, gleaming pointy-toes stilettos slipping across the perfectly polished floor.
What I'm saying: even as you sprawl across the bathroom floor, you're a deliciously glamourous storyteller, Alice.
Posted by: Elsa | August 26, 2010 at 08:17 PM
Thankyouthankyou thank you for sharing. This story is the story of my life. Every time I think I've done the last really stupid darnfool clutzy hazardous-to-my-or other-people's-health thing, I find I've done another stupid thing. Which is why, if I didn't write humor, I'd be a total basket case!
Cheers.
Ellen Pober Rittberg, author and parenting writer, "35 Things Your Teen Won't Tell You So I Will."
erittberg@gmail.com
Posted by: Ellen Pober Rittberg | August 26, 2010 at 09:08 PM
Oh my golly, I love this MORE than the time I spent half a day wandering around with the back of my skirt tucked into my underwear. MUCH MORE.
Posted by: shriek house | August 26, 2010 at 11:27 PM
Hilarious! Even though I, as your lunch date, have heard it before ;-) Thanks for lunching with me, my dear. It was lovely, and it gave me an excuse to go to a fancy place. You frightened me away from the bathrooms, though...
Posted by: Pamela | August 27, 2010 at 12:55 PM
And I thought I was the only one who mixed up the whole Cowpoke/Buckaroo thing, but I always pretend like I know what I'm doing lest anyone think I'm clueless. So maybe I'm not as clueless as I thought. Thanks! And thanks for the laugh!
Posted by: Jenny | August 27, 2010 at 01:31 PM
@Moose -- what did the other door say, if yours said "Ovaries?"
Posted by: Kim | August 27, 2010 at 07:56 PM