“Wait for me here,” I told the manager. “Yes, ma’am. Happy to do it. Wait for you here.” Lou was a people pleaser. I hurried down the hallway after Sailor. Where had he gone? Out a side exit? Into the gift shop? There was one other alternative—the men’s room. I hesitated for a fraction of second before pushing open the heavy cherry door and stepping in. A large redheaded man standing at a urinal quickly covered up and fled, blatantly ignoring signs exhorting all to wash their hands for the sake of public decency. “You can’t just waltz in here,” Sailor said, indignant, as he stood over the sink, splashing water on his face. “I most certainly can. I just did.” “Is nothing sacred anymore? The last place on earth a man could escape for a little peace, and now you just make yourself at home.” He reached for one of the linen towels in a neat stack on the marble counter. “You women want it all, is that it? Even urinals?” I ignored his bluster, intent on taking in the rare scene before me.
