Of Books and Bathrooms

    I'm all for adventures and I believe that all awkward moments are adventures, just not the fun kind. It was precisely that sort of adventure I had recently.  
    This tale starts off as all tales ought to. It was a lovely, sunny day in summer. I drove to the library in the morning and was still feeling victorious as I walked into the library because I had actually managed to park our vehicle perfectly inside the marked lines of the parking lot. I knew exactly what books I wanted so I marched off toward the shelves with the vigor and assurance that comes with having a plan. Within a short amount of time I had the books in hand and went to check out. The librarian was a cheerful, talkative curly-headed woman, her curls alone have secured a bond of friendship between us. After my books were checked out I took them out to the vehicle and then went back inside to see if the rest of my family had decided on what they wanted, in other words, I went inside to wait on them. Mum informed me that a friend of hers is going to meet us so we would wait yet for a bit. With that in mind I realized that I needed to use the restroom (a.k.a bathroom, a.k.a powder room, etc.). Having never used them at the library before, I was slightly unsure how to actually get to them.
     I marched off and found the restrooms. I felt very accomplished at that time. Not only did I manage to have decent parking that day, but I had also just found the bathroom unassisted. The whole "I'll be a grownup in a few years" thing wasn't looking so hard after all.
    The bathroom was a small room with two stalls and two rather old-looking sinks. When it came time to wash my hands I noted that the rather old-looking sinks had knobs that you were supposed to push. Now I can see that the fact that you have to push the knobs meant the sinks weren't so very old or outdated, but at the time I was focused on my task and thought nothing of it. It was admittedly fun getting to push the knobs down to turn the water on. I bopped both the hot water knob and the cold water knob and the faucet merrily spewed a stream of water over my hands. As I washed I noticed that the hot water knob was loose so I bopped it politely to fix it and then decided it was time to dry my hands. I bopped both the hot water knob and the cold water one, neither stopped gushing. I stared at them trying to figure out how to turn them off. I pushed them both down, I twisted one towards the right, then towards the left, I smashed and bashed, pushed and bopped but still the faucet spewed water. I was starting to feel upset at the faucet, I glared at it as if my stare would scare it into obedience. I bopped them both several more times and then turned to dry my hands while hoping that somehow the faucet would stop spewing water in the meantime. Even once my back was turned to the sinks I heard the steady gushing of water. I stared at the wall for a bit longer but the water continued pouring.
    At that point I was a little miffed. That incorrigible faucet was mocking me. It was depositing gallons of water into the sink just to taunt me and I just couldn't allow it to do so. I bopped both knobs once more and when the faucet failed to feel the wrath of my gaze I spun on my heel and marched out the bathroom door, the sound of water splashing into the sink followed me.
    I realized that the faucet had won and that now I had to go tell someone about it. I walked slowly, ever so slowly, over to the librarian and waited patiently for her to finish talking on the phone, instead she told the person to hold on and then asked what the matter was. After telling her, she burst out laughing and told me that the faucets are automatic and they turn off after a minute or so. I managed to laugh as well though I felt it was an act of surrender to the dreadful faucet.
    I walked out of the library that day with far less energy than when I entered, and more than a little thankful that I still have time before I'm actually an adult.