I Don't Think So!

The joys of bathrooms labeled "Men" and "Women."  Tonight while I was out and about I had some options on where I used the bathroom.

Important piece of information:  I was wearing dress men's pants, fitted collared shirt and bow tie.

Choice one --  Multi-stall, gendered bathrooms in a park by a ground fountain where a bunch of little kids are playing.
 -- Fear:  little kids most often ask why I am in the bathroom, if I am a boy or a girl or just stare/point/laugh/scream.

Choice two -- In the venue where the concert I'm going to attend is.  A lot of the people who are attending are older than me.
 -- Fear:  older women tend to be uncertain of my gender and either give me a questioning to evil look or might tell me I'm in the wrong place.

So I know that either choice was most likely not going to be a joyous experience.

I decided that I might be a little overdressed for the bathroom in the park and that bathroom is often a bit of the mess because the children come in after playing in the fountain.

So I went into the Women's bathroom in the Palmer Event Center.  I got in without anyone taking notice (at least I didn't get any looks or comments).  

I quickly washed my hands, trying to be invisible.  It would be a handy superpower for me in bathrooms.  And all-in-all so far so good.

I opened the door to leave right as "a lady" opened the door to come in.  She stopped, half turned to leave, looked at the sign on the door, then gave me the LOOK OF DEATH.  I gave her my most charming smile and said, "It is ok, you are in the right place," and walked out.

Just another day navigating the world with as much grace as possible.