By Niyi Sodimu

I was about to enter into the rest room when a lady suddenly emerged from the hallowed chamber! I looked at her critically, then at the label on the glass door at the entrance, just to confirm, once again. It was still boldly written, “Male only” made bold and obvious for anyone that could claim to have been mistaken. In fact, there was the drawing of a boy clearly defining the gender authorised to enter. The manly man in me wanted to immediately react and promptly point out her error, but then I remembered…

One good old day back in school, I urgently stood outside the door of the restroom hip-hopping to avoid a volcanic eruption from my device in “the other room”. The current occupant of the male rest room seemed not to be in a hurry. “That guy must have consumed sour beans mixed with spoilt rotten boiled egg and washed it down with fermented condensed milk further condensed by the forces of nature,” I thought to myself, upset of course. Otherwise, what else would have kept a grown man in a public restroom for what looked like eternity!

To avoid the imminent spill of kanji dam, which I was scared of, after all, you have to maintain your fine boy, I gripped the front of my pants effectively restraining my instrument from even thinking let alone attempting to discharge its ‘liquid contents only’. I held on firmly in a bid to avoid an imminent outbreak of hot, lemonade-like looking coloured liquid. I would later watch its free flow in admiration and awe.

Suddenly, it came to me, subtly and subliminal at first, ‘use the ladies.’ I ignored the thought, wondering to myself, “how can!” But as the saying goes, a desperate moment calls for a desperate action commensurate to the level and degree of desperation. So, I thought to myself, “why not!” I dashed into the ladies like a gazelle that had just encountered an extremely famished lion; don’t ask me how I know what one looks like. Lol...

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