I’m on my lunch break when a trio of young almost teenagers burst into the Storytime Room where I’m microwaving my meal. They look surprised to see me.
“Can I help you?” If I had glasses, I would have pushed them up the bridge of my nose.
One of them crosses his legs and cups his crotch. “Oh, I have to pee so bad! Where’s the bathroom?”
I cock an eyebrow, showing him that I don’t believe him for a second, then point to the hall just behind them. “You just passed it.”
They stumble out of the room, giggling.
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| Could they be more clearly labeled? |
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