the ghost of men's rooms present

I had thought that last year's holiday shopping bathroom experience, you know, when two loaded pistols were laid on the floor six inches from my terrified feet, was frightening...well, until tonight.

Entering a quiet suburban Target men's bathroom, I caught a
glimpse of two size 10ish spectator pumps, one a bit scuffed at the toe, both with a modest heel.





As I sat down, their wearer stood up, flushed the toilet 10 times in succession, went out and ran the water for a good 5 minutes, while I strained to see through the cracks.

I was too far from the door to see, but it sounded for all the world like a vigorous brushing of teeth.

Suddenly through the stall cracks, I could see a rush of Lane Bryant leopard print chiffon, and it was gone.



I finished up as quickly as I could, hoping to catch a glimpse of he/she/it in the store, but alas, he/she/it was gone. The only trace of this phantom was few tiny drops of fresh blood on the stall floor.