We met our daughter about midpoint between our two homes to transfer our granddaughter and a trunk full of ‘treasures’ going from our house to hers. Our cell phones directed us to the parking lot of an old-house-turned-architect’s-office, and due to the ninety degree temperature, we were anxious to make the switch as quickly as possible and be on our way to our homes in our air conditioned cars.
So, without considering the ramifications, I walked into the building hoping to use the bathroom. At first no one was around, but soon a professional looking white male, white shirt sleeves rolled up, came out of his office.
He looked me over. “This is a private office.” Another glance at me.
I looked at him and smiled. “I was wondering if I could use the bathroom.” Another smile.
Another glance at me. Pause. “Of course, it’s right this way.”
Need I say more?