I don’t believe this has become an issue worth mentioning but I reckon it does not hurt to examine.
When I’m at an unfamiliar home, I’ve made it a habit to ask to use the restroom. I’m sure that’s not uncommon.
The problem starts here.
I don’t use the restroom. I take that opportunity to rummage through their medicine cabinet and rearrange their belongings. I can’t explain it but it makes me feel as though I know more about them.
Try it sometime. You’ll see.
Oh, it’s more complicated than that. Sometimes, foul mistakes are made. Then you’re left trying to explain the situation at hand.
For instance; when David and I first started dating, I asked to use his restroom. Now’s my chance to see how hygienic, vain, or tidy he really is. I turned on the faucet to disguise the sound of my frantic rummaging.
What I failed to realize was that his medicine cabinet was no medicine cabinet. It was a cheap Ikea mirror made to imitate a medicine cabinet by slightly projecting off his wall above his faucet.
Let’s cut to the chase. The mirror fell off his wall and shattered into a million little pieces.
How am I going to explain myself?