The Joy of Public Bathrooms.

So I'm standing (hovering, actually, at the risk of being slightly graphic) in the ladies' room, and the girl in the next stall starts talking. At first I thought she might be out of toilet paper or in desperate need of a tampon, either of which is a perfectly acceptable reason to start a stall-to-stall conversation with a complete stranger. She wasn't. Then I thought she might be in there with a friend. Checking for feet, I saw that this wasn't the case either. Was she talking to herself? I wondered. After a few minutes I realized that she was on her cell phone. Did the person on the other end realize where she was talking from? Somehow I'd have preferred to think she was talking to herself. I took extra time washing my hands, wanting for some odd reason to put a face with the voice of the bathroom talker. Alas, the bar was busy, and she was quite involved in her conversation, so I had to go.