Page 9 of The Road Ahead
Other patrons were getting uncomfortable now, shifting on their feet and avoiding eye contact with the upset woman. When she practically screeched at Teresa, “He’s probably using the opportunity to look up our skirts!” several people physically moved away to distance themselves from her.
I saw the moment that Teresa saw red. “There’s only one person here who is taking an inappropriate interest in what genitalia is present in this room,” she snarled. “That person isyou, so if you’re going to label anyone a pervert, you can start with yourself, you bigoted old bat! Now, if you don’t shut thefuck up and let us finish washing our hands so we can get back in time to see the band start, I’m gonna call security.”
“By all means, call them!” the woman said, sounding smug. “I’d like to hear what they have to say about all of this.”
Teresa didn’t bother replying, simply called the woman’s bluff. She stalked to the door, threw it open, and yelled out, “Security! We need security here!”
A moment later, a security guard pushed into the room. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“This woman is harassing my friend,” Teresa said, pointing at the seething woman.
“I’m trying to protect innocent women from a pervert,” the woman protested. “This restroom is for women, not people with male anatomy!”
“How do you know?” Teresa asked her. “How do you know what they have in their pants? Have you been looking through the gaps in the doors to spy on them?”
The woman looked disgusted. “Certainly not!”
“Then how. Do. You. Know?” Teresa bit out.
The woman blustered a little and then gave up. “I don’t, for sure,” she admitted from between her clenched teeth. “But it’s obvious just looking at him.”
“Ma’am, you need to walk away,” the guard told her, looking tired. “If you don’t, I’ll escort you from the premises for harassing other patrons.”
“What?” the woman asked, looking shocked. “No, that’s not how this works! You’re supposed to kickhimout!”
“All I see is someone using the amenities and causing no trouble whatsoever.” The guard turned to look at the others in the queue. “Did anyone else here feel threatened or concerned?”
There were head shakes all round.
“There you have it,” the guard decided. “Clearly, the issue is yours, ma’am. Now please leave these people in peace.”
“This is outrageous!” she fumed. “I want to speak to your manager!”
The guard sighed loudly, and closed his eyes for a long moment, completely over this shitshow. “Certainly,” he finally said in his best customer service voice. “If you’ll come with me, ma’am.” He nodded his head at me. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
I smiled at him. “I will. Thank you.”
The guard led the woman out, and suddenly the noise inside the tiled room doubled in volume as everyone started speaking at once. Some of them were simply rehashing the incident with their friends, but others were calling out to me, telling me I was welcome here. One girl came up to me and said, “Iadoreyour top. Where did you get it?”
Once I’d given her the name of the store I’d gotten my blouse, I turned back to the sinks to find Teresa vigorously washing her hands. “You okay?” I asked.
“No, I’m not,” she told me. “I’mfuming, Rio. How dare she? The fucking nerve of that woman!”
“It’s okay. It happens all the time.”
“That doesn’t make it okay!” she snapped. “It shouldneverhappen.”
I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for defending me,” I said.
She huffed against the top of my head. “No one treats my cousin like that and gets away with it.”
I laughed as we separated, then I took her hand and led her back out into the bar where we could hear the band coming on stage. “Just in time,” I called over the noise of the crowd. “Come on. We’ve got a gig to enjoy.”
“Here you go.”
I smiled up at Cooper as he handed me a hard lemonade. “Thank you.” The band was taking a break before their final set, and most of the crowd had made a beeline for either the bar or the bathrooms. Cooper had offered to grab me a drink so I could save our seats, while Brad went to take a piss and Teresa went outside to sneak a cigarette.
“The band, they’re good, aren’t they?” Cooper said as he scooched his ottoman closer so I could hear him over the random pop song being piped into the room. He sipped his regular lemonade, since he was the designated driver and wasn’t drinking. Most people wouldn’t think twice about having one or two drinks before jumping behind the wheel, but not Coop. He’d seen too many horrible accidents on the job to risk having anything at all that could impair his judgement.
