Tuesday, we drove back across the six mile stretch of open island between Fort Walton Beach and Destin,, Fl., something you don't often see along the coast in tourist areas.
Objectives were to do some grazing at the Golden Corral, visit a new NTN site and go to McGuire's Irish Bar. Golden Corral is one of the few places I can afford to eat steak anymore. The new NTN site, the Oasis of Destin, is not yet open, but hope to be by today.
McGuire's is one of the most interesting places we've ever been to, but I am going to talk about the last experience there. We'd just finished our pints and taken a walk around the place and were looking at that great gift shop and being sorely tempted, when I decided to go to the bathroom. Found them and saw a whole lot of stuff on the door, but saw the word "Men" in big print and walked right in.
I was wondering why there were no urinals and put the toilet seat up in one stall (I have been trained well) and just then heard a flush from the next stall and Liz saying loudly, "What are you doing in the women's room?"
So that would explain why there were no urinals. Unfortunately, I met the lady from the other stall on my hurried retreat. She and Liz found it hilarious. I didn't so much.
I mean, these doors are set up to deliberately catch you. And they did.
Funny now, not so funny at the time.
Believe Me, Every Bathroom Door I Go Through Now Gets Close Scrutiny. --RoadDog
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