So I am in a Women's Room, changing my diaper, which is always dicey enough. I hate the noise the tapes make; I hate the knowledge that whoever is in the next stall knows. (I tell myself that she is just assuming it is a very odd sanitary napkin being unraveled in that stall...)
I scoped out where the wastebasket is when I came in, as I always do. But, as I am changing, I start hearing the door open...again and again and again and again...and the voices are talking: there is a huge line growing inside the room. And I know right where it is going to be: in front of that wastebasket. I put my fresh diaper on, straighten my skirt, roll up the used diaper and put it into my purse, where it is going to show no matter what I do but not much if I am nonchalant, and stroll out.
I move toward the sink, edge between two women in line, wash my hands, reach for paper towels, dry my hands, then casually reach into my purse and remove the diaper and drop it, along with the paper towels, into the trash, aware the entire time of the woman next to me as she watches the whole procedure.
I step back out of line and leave the women's room.
What the hell, I tell myself. It had to be done. I'll never see her again, anyway.