‘I’m texting you the address, be there at ten tomorrow morning and I’ll love you forever,’ Danielle threatened. ‘I’m so pleased you texted me, Ros. I was just about to offer the job to a complete wanker and you’ve saved my life. Meant to be or what?’

‘Miss, please put away your phone or—’

Three short sharp beeps in my ear declared the call over.

I was officially the first person on the face of the earth who had accidentally sent someone a text message and it had gone right. I made a mental note to buy a lottery ticket on the way home. It had to be my lucky day.

Flushing the loo, I slipped my phone into my back pocket so I could look myself in the eye and pretend I wasn’t the kind of person who reads their phone on the toilet (even though everyone did it, there were many reports on the matter). Pushing against the heavy toilet door with all my weight, I groaned, hoping the added vocalization might somehow make me stronger but it didn’t budge.

‘What do they do in here that they need hermetically sealed cubicles?’ I asked, not really wanting an answer to the question, before hurling myself at the door one more time. It stuck for a second then creaked open, sending me stumbling out into the toilets and—

‘JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.’

I immediately locked eyes with a man using a urinal.

‘OH MY GOD,’ I screamed, covering my face with my hands before remembering I still needed to wash them. Thrusting my arms out in front of me, I closed my eyes instead, stumbling around the gents like a blind zombie.

‘What are you doing?’ the man shouted. ‘Get out!’

‘I’m going, I’m going,’ I promised, still holding out my arms and fumbling my way forward. It seemed foolish to keep my eyes closed now, especially since I’d seen everything, but I had been raised to be polite. And not to use the men’s toilets, but still.

‘Shit,’ he grunted as he zipped up his fly. ‘You made me piss on my shoes.’

I winced, opening my eyes just a crack to find the sink. Sure, I might read my phone on the toilet but I always, always washed my hands.

‘No, really, take your time,’ I heard the man say over the sound of many, many paper towels being dispensed. I purposefully pumped the soap dispenser.

I opened my eyes a crack and saw him rubbing at a dark stain.

‘I’m going to wash my hands,’ I said primly, rinsing my hands. ‘I’m not a monster.’

He looked up but his dark hair was covering most of his face. ‘Says the woman using the men’s toilets.’

‘How dare you assume to know my gender identity,’ I mumbled as I grabbed my own paper towels.