Most women have a specific face they make at themselves in the mirror at some point at the end or during their “getting ready bathroom routine” and it usually serves as some sort of visual checklist before the final departure into the outside world. It’s a long serious yet blank stare in which you do the last confirmation. Did I put mascara on both eyes? Check. Did I completely cover up that period rapidly approaching warning signal also known as a crater size pimple? Check. Does my hair have enough volume without screaming I ratted and then hair sprayed? Check. If I were a very attractive, wealthy and charismatic man would I want to wife me? Check. It’s comical though because usually the face that is made is not a face ever made once one has left the bathroom. It’ kind of like a sheik duck face of sorts like a “mirror, mirror on the wall who’s this chick sucking in her cheeks like a hungry vogue model when she’s just getting ready to go the mall?” The other day I was in a lady’s room at a restaurant and there was a woman looking at herself in the mirror for nearly 5 minutes!! She was just making small hair and side boob adjustments while blankly yet seductively staring in the mirror. I gave myself dishpan hands just standing there waiting for to blink. When she left I tried to wrap up my bathroom session with my own mirror stare down but it was a bit more awkward since I hate to make eye contact with myself in the mirror.
We all know what kinds of faces we make when we are getting ready in the bathroom but does anyone wonder what kinds of faces we make while going to the bathroom? I can’t imagine I am expressionless all the time. I think I remember one time when I held it so long (probably alcohol related) that I felt like my eyes were about to water in the form of urine that by the time I made it to the bathroom I’m nearly certain my eye fluttering face and euphoric sighs looked and sounded more like someone mid orgasm than someone mid tinkle. There are always those times when “something doesn’t agree with you” and you have the kind of unpleasant bathroom experience that you only pray can be erased from memory. That’s a face of disgust and shock similar to what I would assume I would look like if I was forced to watch a documentary on animal abuse with “sex slaves UK” commercial breaks. I don’t think I have to go into detail on what the face of someone would be if they were trying to force something special through when it’s not that something special’s time to come out because it probably looks like someone caught on camera on a rollercoaster just before they are about to fall 20 stories in 3 seconds. Since most bathrooms, public and private opt out of mirror placement directly in front of the toilet we really have no concept of the range of facial expressions during our private time. I’m sure those in lovingly open relationships take pride in the fact that they are completely ok with living by a household “open door” policy where it’s perfectly ok to allow for open door dumps in which you know exactly what your significant other looks like when they climax and when they have to use the bathroom after a cup of coffee and a bran muffin.
A few days ago at the gym as I was carefully selecting which disease ridden bathroom stall I encountered a woman who probably needed some 360 bathroom feedback. As I pushed open door number 3 I was surprised to find a middle aged woman going number one who was not sitting but squatting, who had definitely held it too long (or was intensely concentrating). When I opened the door her eyes were closed and when she realized she had a visitor they became overtly bulged. Of course I didn’t stay longer than a nano second and clearly it was accidental and OBVI I apologized for the mistake yet somehow she ended up yelling the following, “excuse you, how rude!” I was baffled at how her not properly latching the door and forgetting to put up a sign that said, “please knock first” was my fault that she was walked in on and startles her stream off course. Unfortunately it made for an awkward bathroom experience in which I was plagued with the worst stage fright and in a last ditch effort to salvage the mishap I tried yelling out, “you can walk in on me if that will help.” She must have not heard me or omitted the wipe and stormed out because she didn’t get to see the face I make when I know I have to pee but I can’t because the lady next to me who I saw shooting a hose into large bowl just yelled at me face.