I have two types of Lucy Day. The first is the I Love Lucy Lucy Day—a little craziness and a enabling trusted sidekick. The second is the Peanuts Lucy Day—a little bossiness doled out with nickel advise.
Yesterday was a Peanuts Lucy Day.
It occurred as I shopped in a small store and the urgent need to visit the facilities came upon me. I made it quickly to the Ladies Room at the far end of the store only to find the two staller was less than stellar.
Oh, it was clean enough; however, the first stall was crowded and the bowl was barely a foot off the floor. This would make my visit uncomfortable for several reasons: my knees are stiff and don’t like to bend, and my weight is such that rising from a position that low is not graceful. Additionally, the door swung inward into the empty stall and almost scraped the front of the bowl. Did the stall designer not realize if the door is almost hitting the bowl in an empty stall, a full stall will necessitate the person straddling the bowl to open the door to exit?! Again, not a graceful picture.
My second choice was the handicapped stall. It was door less.
While crouching over the toy bowl, with my knees simultaneously hitting the stall door and my chin, I pondered the reason for the door less state of the handicapped stall. I decided anything less than, “The door fell off the hinges less than 3 minutes ago,” was unacceptable and in true Peanuts Lucy fashion, after I finished, flushed, and washed my hands, I sought out the Store Manager to dispense some free nickel advice.
As anticipated, the Store Manager attempted to say the door has a work-order pending, the maintenance man had told her he was in a nation-wide search, and the hinges, which are no longer made, are on back-order; however, I ungraciously over-talked her. That is not something I am proud of doing. I should have been more courteous.
However, my dander was up and my inner censor was down. I stopped her feeble excuse by saying, “One dollar. That’s what a plastic shower curtain from Dollar Tree would cost. One dollar is all it would take to provide a small measure of dignity and privacy to your handicapped customers.”
I actually saw the lightbulb above her head as her eyes popped open and she said, “I never thought of that. I can get one right now and fix it.” She could have left it at that and we would have both been happy...until she added, “But that stall is rarely used.”
“That’s not true.” I replied, “I am not handicapped, but when I come across an inferior, non-handicapped stall," (and I explained in detail about my aversion to tiny toidies—to which she wholeheartedly concurred and stated she was remodeling her home bath and chose the elongated toilet because it was taller). I regained my focus and returned to the use of the taller toidie, and continued, "If there is not a handicapped person, or a mother and small child waiting, I use the larger stall with the taller bowl.”
She was mercifully called away to the register at the front of the store, but as she left, she promised she would hang a curtain.
I was just glad my unsolicited advice had accomplished some good...and my Peanuts Lucy, Lucy Day had not turned into an I Love Lucy, Lucy Day.
I shudder at the thought and try not to allow my over active imagination to conjure up pictures of that scenario...