I am talking to a female mall security guard when a stranger comes up.

Stranger: “Hey, there are a couple of guys in the ladies’ toilet. One went into a stall and the other is hanging about the sink, apparently waiting for his friend. But he’s creeping us girls out!”

Guard: “All right, let’s have a look.”

Stranger: “They’re in costume, heads completely covered, so we have no idea what they really look like.”

Guard: “Hmm…”

The guard turns to me.

Guard: “Sorry, give me a moment.”

After a while, the guard returns alone.

Me: “What was that?”

Guard: “They were girls! They were just dressed as male characters. Told them to keep their heads out so nobody sees them as men.”

I am in an airport bathroom stall when a self-cleaning toilet seat begins to whir.

A woman speaks up from a stall with a delighted voice and a broad southern accent.

Woman: “D*******N, THIS IS SOME STAR TREK S***!”

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I work at a copy shop in a small shopping center in Austria. We’re located right next to the toilets. The disabled toilet is always locked, as it has a standardized lock and most disabled people have a key that unlocks any such bathroom door.

Occasionally, people come into our shop to ask if we can unlock the door for them; most of them are surprised to hear that there are standardized locks. In these cases, we usually call the management of the shopping center to send someone down to unlock the toilets.

I’m near the entrance, talking to a coworker, when a man enters and asks, in English, whether we could unlock the disabled toilet for him. I talk to him, as my English is better than my coworker’s, and explain the key situation.

Me: “If you need to use the toilet, we can call someone down to unlock it for you.”

I turn to my coworker and speak in German.

Me: “Could you call upstairs, please, and ask if they can open the disabled toilet?”

My coworker calls house management.

Customer: “No, that’s all right. I don’t want to cause you any inconvenience.”

Me: “It’s really no inconvenience at all.”

Coworker: *In German* “They’re sending someone down.”

Me: “They’re already on their way. The door will be open in a bit.”

Customer: “Oh, thank you. I’ll wait outside, then.”

The man goes outside to wait in front of the toilet. My coworker turns to me.

Coworker: “He doesn’t really look like he’s got a disability.”

Me: “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say anything. Maybe he’s got something that’s not obvious; I don’t know. It’s not really any of my business.”

Coworker: “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

After a bit, the janitor shows up. He speaks to the man for a bit before shaking his head. The man leaves, still as cheerful as he was when he came in, and waves to me as he passes by. After that, the janitor comes into our shop.

Me: “What was that about?”

Janitor: “Apparently, he didn’t need to go to the toilet. He asked if he could take a shower in the disabled bathroom.”

I was left slightly speechless. I mean first of all, what disabled toilet includes a shower, and second of all, why would he think to take a shower in the disabled toilet of a small shopping center?

My husband, seven-month-old daughter, and I go to a popular furniture store. My daughter needs her diaper changed, so I let my husband know I’ll be in the bathroom while he gets a cart. The only changing tables in this particular store are in the family restrooms and there are two of those on the bottom floor: one by the front door next to the regular restrooms and one across the store.

I pick the one closest to the front door. As I start to change her, I hear this loud thud against the door, as if someone expected the door to open when it is, in fact, locked. I hear the handle jiggle, so I shout out that the restroom is occupied.

Thinking the person has left, I continue with my diaper changing duty. Not ten seconds later, there are three loud bangs on the door. Now, when I say bangs, I mean that it sounds like missiles are hitting the door. My daughter is surprised by the sudden noise and she starts crying, so I angrily shout out, again, that the restroom is occupied.

I calm my daughter down, finish her up, and exit the restroom. I expect to find this insane person hanging around but I only find my husband. He didn’t know I was in this family restroom, so he has been waiting by the women’s restroom nearby. The following is what he witnessed.

A lady with a baby and a toddler comes running up to the restroom and the lady slams herself into the door. Then, when the door doesn’t open, she bangs so loudly on the door that a worker comes over to see what all the commotion is about. And, yes, she is screaming the entire time.

Customer: “THERE’S SOMEONE IN THIS BATHROOM!”

Worker: “Um… okay?”

Customer: “GET THEM OUT! MY KID NEEDS TO GO!”

Worker: “Ma’am, I can’t kick someone out of the bathroom. You can wait for this family to finish or you can go to the family bathroom over there.”

Customer: “I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WAIT! I’M A FAMILY REWARDS MEMBER, WHICH MEANS I GET ACCESS TO THE FAMILY BATHROOMS! NOW KICK THESE PEOPLE OUT!”

Worker: “Ma’am, like I said, I can’t remove other customers from the bathroom. Our family rewards cards do not give anyone special access to bathrooms, only special prices throughout the store. Please either wait for this customer to leave or choose another bathroom to use.”

The customer let out a fierce pterodactyl screech and ran away, with her toddler being dragged behind her.

The worker shook his head and walked away.

If my husband had known I was the one getting terrorized, he would have said something. I told him he should have said something regardless because the poor worker clearly couldn’t but definitely wanted to! We only saw this lady and her kids once more… as she was being escorted out of the building by security. Guess someone was in the other bathroom, too!

I work in a museum. There is an information kiosk that is literally fifteen steps from the bathroom. If you are talking to me, you need to turn around 180 degrees, decide if you want men’s or women’s, angle your feet 45 degrees, and walk fifteen feet. The bathrooms are large and can be entered from either end of a long hallway. Most people are able to find them.

Some people are both obtuse and rude. It’s like they expect me to hold their hand and walk them into the stall. Those people get directed to the “other bathroom.”

I send them up the stairs, across the main hall, down the other stairs, and into the other door of the same bathroom. The look on their faces when they exit and see they were back at my kiosk is priceless. If they are really, really obnoxious, I send them to the bathroom at the complete opposite end of the museum, assuming correctly that they will never find me again.