The Working Girl Blog #11: A conversation in the bathroom, or "Are there napkins left in the vending machine?" To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I was in my office this afternoon, trying to make heads or tails of my notes as I worked on a little ER diagram on my laptop when one of the girls popped in.

"Bobbie, we're going to the bathroom," she said.

I answered "Okay," and continued to work. After maybe twenty seconds later, I realized that she was still by the door, waiting. What was she doing there? I thought she was going to the bathroom. And then delayed reaction set in.

Oh.

I hurriedly pressed control-S in the Visio program, minimized the window, and grabbed my purse and went out. Apparently I was joining the girls in going to the bathroom.

Lately, little lapses like that seem to be happening more and more, as I got busier and busier with the project. Damn.

Before transition, I always used to wonder what it is that girls do in the bathroom, and why they always go in there in groups. What is it that they do in there?

When I went through my RLT, I, of course, had to use the ladies, but I didn't much like to, and tried to go when there weren't any girls in there. I felt like I was some kind of imposter going in where I shouldn't. After transition, that kind of feeling went away, mostly, as now there isn't even an option. Besides, men's bathrooms are icky n smelly...

So, even though I didn't need to go, I, like most girls would, I think, felt compelled to join them.

Undoubtedly, some of the more voyeuristic males out there in the peanut gallery go, "so what do girls do in the bathroom?"

Surprisingly, nothing much...

As the girls used the facilities, I stayed in front of the mirror and fiddled with my hair with my cushion brush (for the past few months, I've told my hairdresser not to touch the length, and it's now passed my shoulders. Pretty soon, it’ll be long enough that I can start trying out some of the styles I've wanted to) and freshened up my make-up a bit. I know a lot of girls like me have a big fascination with make-up. I guess I was more into the hair thing.

Snatches of conversation float through the room, about little office details (are you done with your spec, yet?, or how cold it was this morning (very), or was there anything good in the cafeteria (French toast), who was dating who (one of the girls was dating someone as old as her dad), who wanted to go out later (apparently no one), and how cute the new analyst in the other department was (oooh!).

Someone in the left-most cubicle plaintively asked if there are any napkins left in the machine. Ooops! Someone in trouble. I hurried over to the machine and got a couple out, passing them under the cubicle door to the girl.

As soon as everyone was done, they joined me at the counter, washed their hands and fiddled with their makeup and hair. Pretty soon, it was pretty crowded in front of the mirror, but no one really minds that, so long as they get their mirror time.

I guess you could call it girl shoptalk when the conversation centers mostly around make-up, clothes and hair, and, in my little experience as a girl, mirror time is usually time for girl shoptalk.

Some girl commented on my lipstick shade so I handed it over. I was still a bit squeamish about lending lipsticks (in my mind, it was like sharing toothbrushes), but it was a thing that girls do, so I offered the tube. Per the "new protocol," she politely declined the tube (y'know, what with swine flu and aids and all). You have to offer, you know, and the other girl's supposed to politely decline. Unspoken rule, at least here in the office.

I commented on one of the girls' outfits, and the younger of the five commented that, yes, it was pretty fierce. The girl smiled and preened.

The conversation was like that the whole time, just a lot of small talk and gossip. I used to wonder why girls feel compelled to talk in the bathroom when they can very well do it in the office outside. Eventually I sort of learned that, since the girls' bathroom is exclusively for them, they (or should I say 'we') feel freer to talk, and not have to constantly censor or check themselves with male ears eavesdropping. Even more than that, there's less of a pecking order and there's mostly no rank or position or anything like that in there. I mean, with your panties around your ankles, can you still pull rank?

As for me, I guess it’s where I feel more accepted. Weird, huh, feeling accepted while sitting on the toilet. Par for the course, I think, for this topsy-turvy world of mine.

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot