Two Door Monty

     He had seen a wide variety of restroom door designations over the years. Men’s and women’s, boys’ and girl’s, cowboys’ and cowgirls’, and even cows’ and bulls’. He had seen photos of a figure wearing a dress and one wearing pants. He’d seen a lion with a mane and one without a mane. There had been the names for men and women in various languages. One western-themed restaurant even had a pistol for one door and a holster for the other.

         Due to the burgeoning numbers of sex and gender designations, one restaurant had gutted both bathrooms and made four small, undesignated private bathrooms that anyone could use. In that case the waits were long, though, since the capacity of each (one) was far less than the larger non-private restrooms.

         On this day, in the back hallway of this vegetarian restaurant, however, the doors had him stumped. The door on the right had the image of an avocado. The door on the left featured an artichoke. 

         He stood and considered. Did either of these vegetables have any gender characteristics or mythology? None he could think of. Anyway, he figured the avocado was probably not a vegetable, but a fruit. Either way, the question remained: which one was the men’s room?

         Suddenly he saw he was in luck! One of the doors opened. Exiting the restroom was… well, he wasn’t sure. Whomever it was didn’t have an especially manly or womanly posture or walk. Her or his hair was shaved on one side and long-ish on the other. That was a style he had seen before on men and women.

         He noticed an older man near him who, he reasoned, was also trying to determine the appropriate door. The man turned to him.

         “Was that a man or a woman?”

          Both men shrugged. “Couldn’t tell.”

          They both continued to stare at the doors.

         The older man walked away, mumbling something about going around back to the alley.

         The remaining man thought he might just go in one of the two doors. Unfortunately, in the five decades of his life the two things that were taboo topics in public were sex and bathrooms. He realized that the world of gender-bending and unisex bathrooms had arrived, but his consciousness was still in the era of gender-segmented gym classes. He would need to be in very serious need of a bathroom before he’d risk going in to the Ladies’ room.         

         Besides, there were no ladies. Or gentlemen. There were men and women. And also the other genders that he’d read about, but hadn’t really learned the names of. It didn’t seem important to him at the time. He was sure that avocado and artichoke weren’t among them.

         A young woman walked into the hallway. She stopped and looked at the two doors, and then put her weight on her left leg, and her hand on her left hip. She shook her head with disdain and turned to walk back to the dining room.

         The dining room. That’s where his date was – at least that’s where she was when he excused himself ten minutes ago. He had to do something. He had to embrace the uncertainty and march forward with confidence! He marched one step, and then stopped.

         He stood, paralyzed by his upbringing, and realized that he envied the older man who was probably relieving himself in the alley at that moment.

         He remembered having walked past women’s restrooms in the past and seeing that there was an ante room of sorts where there was often a sofa available. There were days he could have used a little nap, but he supposed that women said they needed a couch, and gone one. The men who approved it probably didn’t want to ask too many questions as to why the couch was needed. The less that was known about “lady” issues, the better.

         Finally, the time came. His bladder was screaming more and more loudly, and using worse and worse language. He had to make a choice. He walked up and reached for the artichoke door and opened it.

         He made the wrong choice.

         It was the women’s bathroom, but he was transfixed by the splendor of it. Yes, there was an outer room with a sofa and a shelf with various medications and salves. He walked through that smaller room and into what he could only describe as a palatial bathroom. The twelve-foot ceilings towered above the gleaming, dark blue tiles on the walls. The floors outside the stalls were carpeted, and the air smelled like spring. The pastel sinks had individual pedestals with golden fixtures. The towels were cotton.

         He turned around in place to take in all the sights and sounds, as classical music purred through the speakers.

         When he regained his wits, he exited, and opened the avocado door and went in. He was underwhelmed. No outer room. No sofa. No twelve-foot ceilings. Just plaster walls and a tile floor. Sure, it was pretty clean, but there was no comparison between the two restrooms. He felt a little miffed. Yes, that was it. Miffed. Not really angry, but miffed.

         He walked over to the wall of urinals and chose one. Moments later, as he washed his hands in a sink with chrome fittings, and dried his hands on paper towels, he wondered if the toilet inequity was unique to this restaurant, or if it was a hidden secret known only by women.

         He tossed his towels into the bin and pushed the door to go back to the hallway, and then back to his date in the dining room.

         “What happened to you?”

         “It’s a long story. What do you think is more masculine: an avocado or an artichoke?”

         “Well, obviously, the avocado.”

         He stared at her; dumbfounded.

         “Why?”

         “I don’t know. It just is. Why do you ask?”

         “The bathrooms. Oh, never mind. I’m sorry to have taken so long. Did you order desert?”

         “No, I wanted to wait for you. Would you order for me? I need to visit the ladies’ room. I’d like the chocolate mousse, please.”

         He rose, politely, as she excused herself. As he watched her disappear down the hallway he picked up the desert menu and reviewed the choices. He was reminded of the game show, “Let’s Make a Deal” with host, Monty Hall. Contestants would win what was behind door number one, but could trade it for what was behind door number two or three. He thought it was apt that he was in a hall picking between two doors.

         Again, the artichoke bathroom came to mind. What a fantastic place. It was not just nicer than the men’s room. It was nicer that the lobby at the company he worked for.  That sofa sounded pretty good at the moment. Maybe he’d had too much wine.

         His date returned. 

         “Did you order for me?”

         “I did. Yes.”

         He knew it would be odd to ask about her bathroom visit, so he started with a more general question. “What do you think of the décor here?” 

         “It’s fine. Nothing special.”

         “Hm. Was the bathroom nice?”

         “It also was fine. Are you okay?”

         “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that…”

         “Oh my God! You went into the ladies’ room, didn’t you.”

         “Yes, but just for a moment. I didn’t know that avocados were women – I mean feminine.”

         “You know I’m going to have to report you. This is not good!”

         She pulled out her phone, took a photo of him, and texted it to who knew where. As she put down her phone their deserts came.

         “Well, we might as well enjoy our desert. There sure won’t be any where you’re going.”

         “What?”

         “Look. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean to, but now that you know the secret you need to go away for a while to unlearn what you saw.”

         “You can’t be serious.”

         “Oh, I am. Women have gotten a bad deal for centuries, but the one thing we always had going for us was better bathrooms. With all this talk of equity, the last thing we need is for men to start demanding sofas and massages.”

         “You get massages? That would be so great!”

         “Well, artichoke boy, it’s not happening behind your door. Just the basics. But, at least you men don’t have to stand in line forever to get in to your bathrooms. We don’t have enough stalls in ours; besides, once a gal gets into our bathrooms, they don’t want to leave.”

         “I can see that.”

         “What desert did you order?”

         “Tiramisu.”

         “Oh, that’s very masculine.”

         He ate his desert slowly, and wondered if he should make a run for it before the toilet authorities got there. His date dropped her spoon, and as she reached down to get it he seized the opportunity to leave the table. He ran past the bar and saw that there were two doors in front of him. One said “Fire,” and the other said “Exit.”   

         After staring at the doors for about a minute, he slowly walked back to the table.

         “Where were you? You weren’t going to try to run out, were you?”

         “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

         She leaned across the table conspiratorially. “Look. Before they get here, why don’t you just take off. I won’t tell them your name or anything. Just go. And, I won’t be able to see you again.”

         The man stood, patted her on the head, for some reason, and left the restaurant.

         A moment later the owner of the restaurant approached her table. She motioned for him to sit.

         “So, how’d it go?”

         She smiled. “Very well, thanks to you. You can take the vegetable pictures off the bathroom doors now. By the way, the remodel of the women’s room is great! When will you be getting started with the men’s room?”

         “Next week sometime. So, he bought the whole thing?” 

“Yes, he did. He’s convinced that all women’s restrooms are as deluxe as yours, and that now that he knows that secret, some unnamed organization is after him to reeducate him to keep the secret safe.”

“Why in the world did you go to all the trouble to punk him like that?”

“I hate to break up with a guy, but he was so boring that I had to. This way he thinks he’s lucky to be off the hook, and he won’t miss me a bit.”

“It really was ridiculous. Why did you think he’d fall for it?”

“Well, he’s a rule follower, so I know the wrong decision of going in the women’s room would terrify him. Also, he’s convinced that there is a lot going on in the world that he doesn’t know about.”

“That much is probably true. There are doors that aren’t what they seem, there are doors that lead nowhere, and doors that can only be opened by the precious few that know the key, so to speak.”

“Speaking of the key, if I give you a key to my place, would you want to come over after closing tonight and get to know each other much better?”

“About that… I haven’t been fully honest with you. I’m not actually a man yet. I’m in transition, but I haven’t had the surgery yet. I’d love to hang out with you, but not to do what you’re thinking of.”

“Okay. I didn’t see that coming. I’d better take the key back. Nothing like the wrong person coming in the right door. Give me a call when you’re, what do you say, complete?”

“I guess that’s as good as anything. Sorry to drop it on you so suddenly, but I thought you should know.”

The woman at the table dropped some money on the check and left the restaurant. One of the waitstaff came over to the owner, open-mouthed.

“I overheard. You’re a woman? Transitioning to become a man?”

“Heavens no. I’m a man who doesn’t want anything at all to do with that woman.”