The woman in front of me in the Ladies’ Room didn’t wash her hands. Fine, that’s her personal choice. I’m no germ-phobe. I touch public doors with my bare hands, and hold the banister on escalators. I even drink tap water. We both know people who don't do any of those things. I also digress.
So she didn’t wash her hands. Big deal. However, you wouldn't believe the look of contempt she threw me while I stood at the sink. No, I’m not projecting, she had to retrace a step or two to make eye contact in the mirror to sneer at me. Maybe she thought I was judging her for not washing. I wasn't, there just wasn't anything else to look at. In any case, she was pissed and made sure I knew it.
I couldn’t help it. I chuckled. I had to, it was funny. She didn’t like that either. Don’t worry, no violence ensued. But it just goes to prove my point.
There’s always drama in the Ladies’ Room.
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