When it’s late enough at work, all the bathrooms are empty. I rushed into one and sat down and relieved myself. It wasn’t until I left the stall I realized I was in the women’s bathroom. There were no women around to suggest I was in the wrong place! Terror!
To be fair, a city ordinance recently required the men’s and women’s restrooms be swapped. In the survival mode tunnel vision (and waddle) of rushing to the bathroom, it’s easy to miss the sign saying “Y chromosome not allowed”.
Finding new ways to embarrass myself,
Art
Arthur Hovinc's Port Manteau 