You know that situation? You know.
When the urge comes upon you at work, you'd like to wait until you get home...but it's not going to happen. You mentally run through the locations of all the toilets, which one is likely to be the least frequented? What time is it? Half past the hour, ideal, no sudden outflux from a lecture.
You don't want to be disturbed after all.
I don't know what you're all thinking, but I'm thinking bowel movements.
So you pootle along to the toilet, your heart sinks, there's someone in the other cubicle.
But you've come all this way, you take the chance that maybe they're nearly finished and that you coming in and faffing around next door will drive them away.
You sit down, listening for the telltale rumble of the loo roll that indicates the end.
This could be awkward, you need a poop, not a pee pee, you have only very little pee pee. But you try anyway, otherwise what you have is two very awkward people sitting on the pan with nowt but a plastic wall between them, listening for each others bodily functions.
It takes about a minute for you to summon anything, anything at all, I do believe it's called 'Performance Anxiety', and then, the most embarrassingly small volume of pee in the world. Performance anxiety over, you're now merely ashamed. It's an emotional rollercoaster!
Next door, still silence. They were here before you! Surely they should have the good manners to leave and let you get on with it. By now they know what you're up to, killing time with your tiny pee pee. No one comes to the loo for a performance like that, you're waiting for something more substantial!
But no, they'll just.....sit tight, listen to you flounder like a dying fish until you finally give up.
And that's what you do. Resigned....you leave the cubicle (having pulled your kecks up, and hopefully to find no one else waiting for the toilet with a silent grin on their face), then wash and dry your hands as quickly as you possibly can so whoever the demon is sitting in that other cubicle doesn't come out and see your face.
If they saw your face you'd have to kill them, no one wants blood on their hands.
Bitch...I bet she's in there having a nice poo now.
I'll go back in ten minutes