Moments ago, I was using the facilities in my work's restroom. Generally, there is nothing of interest to mention when facilitating, but my eye could not help but to be drawn to something small and dark in color on the back of the door. It didn't take a great deal of investigating to discover the something-small-and-dark-in-color's identity. My immediate horror was quickly replaced by trying to figure out--based on placement--if it had been flicked or wiped off the end of a finger. I thought about the proximity of the door in relation to where I was sitting. I thought about trajectory. A rash of what-ifs ran through my mind to the point I forgot what I was doing there in the first place: facilitiating.
Pleased with my findings, I merrily walked out of the stall, washed my hands, and wondered if the person after me would give the booger as much thought as I had. I wondered if our deductive reasoning was similiar; if they, too, would think it had been flicked off the end of a finger.
Or would they simply think, 'It's things like this that remind me I take a chance every time I leave my house.'
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