Bathroom Stalls

The Washington Post poses a provocative question:

"Consider the bathroom stall, that utilitarian public enclosure of cold steel and drab hue.

It can be a world of untold secrets, codes and signals as invitations to partake. Like foot-tapping: Who knew?

Let us peer in, shall we?"

Hilzoy at Obsidian Wings answers this question with "No, let's not." But this reminds me of a story....

In college, I approached one of the stalls in the dormitory bathroom, and almost entered, but I hesitated - I wasn't 100% sure whether the stall was occupied, or not. I looked through the crack of the door, but in the bathroom half-darkness I still couldn't tell - I couldn't see anything but dark, but I thought I heard the barest noise. So, I stared and stared and peeked into the crack, and pondered.

Inside the stall, A.C., the newest member of the college basketball team, an incredibly-tall, gangly, dark-skinned African-American, was freaking out. Whatever I had in mind, he wanted no part.

Secrets and codes, and a world all unto itself....