What happens in Barnes and Noble bathrooms stays in Barnes and Noble bathrooms.

That is, unless I decide to blog about it, because I enjoy sharing life's little embarrassments with you, my dear bloggy friends.

So last night, after dinner, A and I went to B&N to read together, get some coffee and relax. While there, my stomach got...*ahem*...a little upset. So, I went upstairs to use the ladies room.

While there, in the big stall (of course, I felt the need to go to the big stall, nevermind that it is for handicapped people and mothers with children who need a diaper-changing) I thought to myself, "I'm glad the big stall was open. Hope nobody needs it."

Sure enough, the thought was no sooner out in the open than I hear the bathroom door open and two women start tossing out the word "stroller," as in, "I'm glad they make stalls big enough for strollers, since it's so big."

Fan-freakin-tastic. There goes my nice, quiet little sabbatical.

As they come into the bathroom, from under the closed door, I see the stroller wheels coming closer and closer to my stall. I begin saying, "Just a second, someone's in here, just a second, just a sec-" BOOM.

That lady rammed her baby's stroller so hard into the stall door it busted the lock and the door banged open, revealing me huddling helplessly, trying to maintain some decency.

She backed up, and was just planning on leaving the door open, I suppose, but I wasn't about to stand up and shut it myself with her and her wee little tot right there. She couldn't back that stroller up fast enough for that. So, I asked her to shut the door back for me, and since she had busted the lock open, it required her to then stand there and hold the door shut for me.

Oh the embarrassments of life. I always heard the phrase, "Getting caught with your pants down." It just never had the same connotations as it does now. Granted, it's natural. Granted, I don't know those women. But, I just can't shake the eerie feeling that those women now know me more than they ever should have. Gracious.