Perhaps It Was Only Someone Feeling A Bit Indisposed

Yes, we stopped at Casey's on the way home from CasinoPalooza 4. We probably could have made it back to the Mansion without adding gas to A-Cad's tank. But we always stop, unless Farmer H is mad and punishing me. He was mad, but not punishing. So I guess he was just a lukewarm (not hot) head that day, still clinging to the handle (rather than flying off it), fit to be gently restrained (not tied), ready to nibble on my head (rather than bite it off), getting his knickers in a slight fold (rather than a twist), ready to give me a flap of his scalp (rather than a piece of his mind), about to go off the shallow (rather than deep) end.

While Farmer H was at the gas pumps, I went on inside. The restrooms are along a hall in the back of the store. They're single-seaters. No line of stalls. An individual restroom with sink and toilet for the women, and another individual restroom for the men. When I reached for the lever door-handle, it didn't move. "Oh. Someone's in there," I said to myself. What did you think I'd do, bang on the door and curse? I didn't have to go THAT bad. It was afternoon already. Long after taking my morning blood pressure meds. It's not like I'm an infant, or need Depends.

I stood patiently. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Farmer H came in and walked past me. Came back out of the men's room and walked past me again, looking for a snack that wasn't a candy bar, and a Diet Mountain Dew. When he headed to the counter, so did I. The reason for his madness annoyedness hinged on waiting earlier that morning. I figured it was just easier to forego my bathroom visit and get back in A-Cad.

Even after taking pictures of parking lot ducks, I left without ever seeing anyone come out of the women's bathroom. I have no idea what was going on in there. My writer's mind whispers that perhaps it was a heroin overdose in progress, or the final throes of childbirth.

But probably just an employee texting on her break.