The Surprise Visitor: A Baseball Microstory

The first stop after a ballgame: The washroom.

It was packed as usual. Young fraternity brothers resting their near-empty cans of beer on top of urinals.

I did what I needed to do, washed and dried my hands and prepared to exit.

Then she walked in.

“Miss,” I said, shocked and concerned. “You’re in the wrong spot.”

She just smirked, pulled her hat down and calmly walked into the only available stall. In unison, all the men stopped talking and watched in disbelief as she locked the door.

She knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t give a damn.

ER

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