one of them being an open door bathroom policy with roommates.
i can’t really blame it on living alone… although that has just escalated the bad habitage. sometimes i blame it on the fact that for a long time growing up we only had one bathroom. now, i was in the “slow” math group in 3rd grade (we actually met in the utility closet!?) but if you take 5 kids + 2 parents and give them an hour to get ready for church = showering teeth brushing blow drying make up applying and toilet business all at the same time… let’s just say you get over inhibitions quite quickly.
then i got to college. freshman year we had 6 girls +1 bathroom = not a pretty site.
somewhere along the way (and 34 roommates later… give or take a few random guys that would end up on our couches) i slipped into some very, shall we say, comfortable living habits. one in particular back fired. it was thanksgiving week 1997.
my friend randee was on her way down from rick’s college to pick me up. then we were driving home to phoenix. i had to work that morning at the rb copy center (yes i was a copy girl). there was this guy… (we’ll call him juan because his real name is john) who lived in my complex and was trying to date me. but he was fresh off his mission and freaked out by girls. i was as equally freaked out by boys. it was my sophomore year, first time living off campus… it was the “oh my gosh i’m going to church with return missionaries and all they want is to get married!!!!” phase.*
well anyways, juan stopped by the copy center to walk me home… but i’d ridden my bike. awkward… and i was in a hurry and he was trying to be flirty and i was trying to quickly walk my bike home. even more awkward. meantime all i could think about was running into my apartment and peeing. as soon as we got to my place i sped through the living room to the hallway and ducked into the bathroom… now the bathroom was split in two. the first door you went through brought you to a kind of vanity with a mirror and two sinks. my roommate was in there. then there was another door leading to the toilet and shower. as i sat down (with the door, BOTH DOORS, wide open) i realized i could still hear juan talking and it was getting louder and louder.
my roommate and i looked at each other and she jumped for the door. but it was too late. juan came around the corner just in time to see me, on the toilet, pulling my shirt over my thighs. he instantly turned bright red. i can’t remember if he waited for me or not. i just remember being mortified. the whole 10 hours to phoenix i roller coastered between laughing hysterically and then expressing my embarrassment to randee.
yeah, juan and i didn’t so much work out. and apparently i didn’t learn a thing because i really can’t stand closing the bathroom door.
*in mormon culture young men serve 2 year volunteer missions for the church when they are 19. while they are gone the 19 and 20 year old girls on campus are forced to befriend and maybe even date (gasp!) young men who are 21+ and have already served missions. this can be slightly freaky… especially if the returned missionaries or rm’s appear to be overly marriage hungry.