Some days, you expect nothing more than a routine swim at your local community center, only to be met with a bizarre and unsettling experience. Today was one of those days.
After a refreshing swim, I entered the locker room, eager for a warm shower. I indulged in the steamy bliss, dried off, and retrieved my clothes. Seeking some privacy, I headed towards the area near the bathroom stalls.
As I entered, I heard the sound of soft crying that quickly escalated to sobbing. The raw, unfiltered kind that makes you pause. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Then, amidst the sobs, I heard something even more puzzling: a man’s voice. My heart momentarily skipped a beat. Was there a guy in the stall with her? My mind raced with possible explanations, none of which seemed appropriate for a women’s dressing room.
Then it hit me—she was on speakerphone.
I had no choice but to continue with my plan. I quickly changed my clothes, trying to tune out the profoundly personal conversation unfolding just a few feet away. The talk was private and emotional; I did not want to be involuntarily involved. I rushed to finish, eager to escape the secondhand drama, but I felt conflicted with the therapist in me who wanted to offer assistance.
After changing, I moved to another section of the locker room to blow-dry my hair, thinking I had left the strange encounter behind. But fate had other plans. I eventually returned to the sink area to wash my hands, only to be greeted with an even stranger sight. The once-sobbing girl was now engaged in a flirtatious yet combative exchange with the same guy, giggling and playfully arguing as if the tearful breakdown from moments ago had never happened. It was complete emotional whiplash.
As I turned to leave, I noticed something that genuinely made my stomach turn—the girl had left her phone screen up on the counter, still connected on FaceTime, while she went into the bathroom stall. And yes, she continued talking to him the entire time. And yes, I saw the young man’s face staring at me as I washed my hands.
Standing in the middle of the locker room, I had just witnessed an impromptu soap opera unfold in real-time, with tears, laughter, and an unsettling level of phone dependency. A part of me wanted to say something, but what could I say? “Excuse me, miss, could you not bring your audience into the public restroom?”
I decided against it. Instead, I washed my hands, shook my head, and left, mentally filing this experience under ‘Things I Wish I Hadn’t Witnessed. I felt grateful I had not undressed in the public area.
As I finished putting on my coat, another lady emerged from the shower, dressed in her towel, and was about to get dressed. I got her attention and brought her into the other room, explaining what was happening. We both looked horrified yet giggled at the absurdity. She thanked me for stopping her from undressing in front of this young man, and we both remarked on how the world had changed.
As I struggled to process what was so upsetting, I concluded that the way the girl begged for this guy’s attention was alarming. She was so obsessed with getting his approval that she seemed oblivious that she was in public. She was in a dressing room—she heard me in the other stall—I even coughed a few times to make sure—and she still didn’t realize or care that she may be disturbing another person or self-conscious that she may want to protect her privacy.
Parents, you give your kids all this technology. Could you please teach them self-respect and respect for others?
What is the moral of the story? Maybe some conversations are better left off FaceTime. And not in the middle of a public dressing room.
