There are some things in life that you are better off not being reminded of. You know they exist in some part of your brain, but you choose never to access that knowledge because it either (a) freaks you out, (b) nauseates you or (c) takes too much energy to remember in any reasonable timeframe.
Like, for instance, in the women’s restroom. Before you go in, you know (because you’ve done this before) that other people have used these toilets. It’s a public restroom.
Today at my office, I was entering the restroom as another woman was leaving. Excuse me, oh, of course, pardon me, thank you, etc. It’s a small restroom (3 stalls) and I walked over to the stall I normally choose (the one with the lock that works), pushed the door aside and found…. the bowl water still swirling and rising!
Oh, My G-d! Oh, My G-d! Oh, My G-d! Oh, My G-d! AAACK! And check, please!
It was at this point my brain started firing thoughts like, “Her! Ass! Was! Right! There!” and “Still! Warm!” and, basically, “EW!” And I threw myself backwards out of the stall.
And, yet, it was still okay for me to go to the next stall, because, in my world, THAT toilet seat is jjjjjjjuuuuuust fine.