bathroom perils

Ominous title, no?  I bet you were scared to click on this post...but worry not, this shall be neither graphic or...(actually, I assume you're mostly worried about graphic content.  But I felt the sentence would flow better with a few options.  Anyway-onward!)

I teach in a trailer.  The student bathrooms are much closer than those in the teachers' lounge, so every time I have to pee (read: 10-76 times a day) I quickly do a cost/benefit analysis of which bathroom to use.  Here's my usual thought process:

[Student bathrooms]

Costs: students feel awkward peeing in the presence of teachers.  

Benefits: proximity.  Meaning I don't wet myself because I make it to the toilet in time.  

On Friday the above analysis led me to choose the student bathrooms whilst in a rush before first period.  However, it became apparent that I had overlooked some dire student bathroom consequences. 

I had just finished washing my hands when I turned on the blowdryer.  As I did this I noticed a student finish washing her hands.  And damn it all, there's only one blowdryer.  Hands still wet, I buckled down for what I assumed would be an awkward-ish minute while I dried and the student hover-waited.  Except for my hands had been drying for no longer than five seconds when a second pair of hands slipped under mine.  Like, right under mine.  So there I stood, hands dripping, with an unknown student wedged right against me, our hands thisclose to touching.  

Quickly realizing this level of awkwardness could not possibly be sustained, I slowly retreated, avoided eye contact, and decided drip-drying was a preferable torture.  I mean--you win, girl!  You totally win.  Next time just let me know you're that determined to dry your hands and I will voluntarily leave.  

That moment made me feel as awkward as that time a blind date started singing Enrique Iglesias to me at a stoplight.  And the performance had included jazz hands.