You are in a bathroom stall. Doesn’t matter where. It is tight. You are very aware of your knees. You are doing whatever it is you do in there. You know. The bad one. Here’s the thing: the stall next to you is huge. However big you’re thinking, go bigger. Ten bathroom stalls? Bigger. Twenty? Not even close. You have to abandon bathroom stalls as a reference to understand how massive this one is. It is long. Long enough for many tall people to lay head-to-toe and create a human snake which, as we know, is the dream of all tall people. Width? Call it a basketball hoop. A basketball hoop and a half. This isn’t like any stall you’ve ever seen. If you’re thinking that it’s too big for one person, you’re damn right. More like 200. Two hundred people sitting in rows of six. Except their toilets can’t open. Yours is hungry, begging, but theirs are shut tight. So they look ahead. All that separates 200 strangers from you and the coiled shame of your body is a sheet of plastic so thin that they laugh at the factory where they make it. Ha ha ha! They laugh because they know. You are sweating. Of course you are. And when you press a button to erase it all, the sound is like a thousand sticks of dynamite exploding at once. You wonder if they’ve heard. Because it’s one thing for them to imagine what you’ve done, but it’s another to hear it. You’re not really wondering though. Hoping, maybe. But you know. You know.
@matiastrillo