As I turn the corner, I find a woman is blocking my path. "Bad dog," she berates her sweet eyed black lab. His disheveled fur seems in conflict with his seeing eye dog sign that is strapped to the handle bar that is strapped to him. But despite his appearance, this is not a day off for him. I hear her say "that's a bad seeing eye dog that eats lettuce off the floor."
I flash back to my dad repeating the command "drop it" to our family dog as he ate something accidentally dropped on the kitchen floor. The repetition continued until the unintended snack was finished.
The hallway is narrow in the restaurant, so I wait for her to move and then I follow her as she heads to the restrooms. The woman and the dog push by a man who tries to give her distance though she is unaware of him. In so doing he gives up his place in line. She is speaking to another woman who's explaining that there are only two bathrooms, one men, one women. The men's room door opens and a man exits. The man who was waiting in line squeezes by and goes in. The blind woman asks what happened and when she hears she opines that both rooms are the same, why didn't they use the available rest room. Her companion explains that the man had been waiting there before them but otherwise she agrees the rooms are the same.
The woman's room door opens and a toddler toddles forward before raising his arms in alarm his body rigid. He lets out a little yelp as he locks his eyes on the dog who is panting, surveying the room, and uninterested in the boy. The stalemate ends as the companion pulls the dogs snout towards her. Happy, expectant eyes from the dog look upward to the companion who's holding him still. The mother pushes her son forward and he keeps his distance from the dog as he passes, the dog still unaware. The mother's voice faintly reaches me from the other end of the hall. She is complaining that pets are not allowed in the restaurant. The companion enters the women's room and announces there is only room for one.
The men's room door opens. Out walks the man and I wonder: Will the blind woman go in? Is it insulting if I suggest to her that the men's room is available?
A man behind me in line taps my shoulder, "Hey, uh, you going in?"
There's too much to explain I think. I answer yes. As the door clicks behind me I hear the blind woman say, "what a rude boy" which given my approaching fortieth birthday I decide to take the compliment in the age of my voice. There are so many perspectives I think as I relieve myself.
