restrooms and men

Why can't every Walmart have a standard restroom policy....Women on the right and Men on the left? I think they secretly planned to swap them around from county to county to confuse people. I bet their security gets a daily laugh out of watching what goes on in front of the restrooms. Sick people.

The other day I was in the Wally restroom...(ok, my former post also surrounded a restroom...I am seeing a weird connection between me and restrooms)...anyway, I come out of the stall and a man is standing there looking at me like I am an alien who is going to abduct him for his organs. I have a moment in my mind scanning prior images while talking to myself, "Did I happen to look at the sign? Did it say Women? Oh, God, please let me be in the Women's restroom?" The man apologizes to me, turns around and scurries out of the restroom. Well, that settles that. Crazy man, geesh, can't he read the sign outside the door?

Breathing a sigh of relief, I go to the sink to wash my hands (which should have given me a clue that I was in the right place because no man was washing his hands...but that is another blog, another day). While looking in the mirror and putting on lip gloss, in walks ANOTHER man. You have got to be kidding me! At this point, I am clearly thinking it is ME in the wrong place (but where are those creepy looking urinals?). We both freeze and look at one another. He breaks out in a sweat and nearly faints, I assure him it's ok and apologize that I must have come into the wrong restroom since he is the second man I have seen. He leaves, saying he will just wait. Dang, fella, I don't have cooties. I'm the one who should be embarrassed.

I leave the restroom and on the way out, I notice the sign. Women's. Wellll....I was in the right place after all! Which should have been my second clue that I was in the right place and the men were not. Women always know where they are going. Women don't need to stop and ask for directions along the way.

a rare jewel

One particular Sunday after church, I encountered a rare and precious jewel.

After services I wanted to freshen up a bit before going out to lunch. As I walked down the hallway to the restroom, I noticed an elderly lady struggling to get the exit door open. I am pretty sure the door was heavier than this petite lady. Assuming she must have forgotten something, I quickly offered my hand to help her across the threshold. She piped out, in what was a booming voice to her, but barely above a whisper to me, "I thought you wanted to go out, so I was opening the door for you!"

I told her that was very sweet of her to open the door for me, but I was actually going into the restroom and not outside. Still assuming that she must be coming back into the church, I told her I would love to hold open that heavy door for her so she could come back inside. She said, "No, no, no...I don't need to go inside. I just wanted to hold the door open for you." Hiding a little chuckle, trying to figure out why this tiny, fragile lady would want to hold the door open for me when I am clearly much more able than she, I smiled sweetly and thanked her.

Finishing up in the restroom and coming out, I was so surprised to see that same little lady trying to pull open that heavy door for me once again. What in the world? After the door was open, I thanked her and told her that I could get the door, not to let me be a bother. With a little spunk in her eye and an equal amount of spunk in her voice, she kindly said, "Honey, are you trying to steal my job?" Taken aback, I grinned and couldn't help but let out a little laugh at her feisty spirit. She went on to say, "I can't do a lot of things for the Lord any more but I can still open this door for people and send them off with a cheery good-bye!"

I did everything I could to hold back from grabbing that sweetheart of a gal and hugging the stuffins out of her. But, she was just too stinkin' cute. I told her I wanted to take her picture to remind me that there is no age limit when it comes to serving the Lord. She said she would love to take a picture as long as I would pray for her every time I looked at it. That was an easy agreement.

That particular Sunday, I truly did meet a rare jewel. I met Mrs. Jewel Sims. Wasn't she appropriately named? Go ahead, smile...I know you want to...