The Judging Man with the Ponytail

I work in a curious little basement office. While my archive is on one side of this sprawling matrix of confusing hallways, another group works at the opposite corner. I've never known what this collection of men does. I think, perhaps, something to do with tech. It's never been explained to me. Their hallway is, however, an obstical I need to overcome each time I use the restroom, which unfortunately resides on the other side of their offices. And here is another problem, I pee a lot.

Yes, over-share, I know, sorry. But it's true. It's always been true. I'm a hydrated little lady and if that means peeing 14 times a day I will gladly do so. That is, before I was so totally noticed and judged each time. Because my office is fra-fra-freeeeezing I wear the same black Columbia fleece everyday. It stays at my desk and welcomes my cold, cold body each morning. Because of this, I am much like a cartoon character. Whatever day it is, I basically look like I'm wearing the same thing. This makes me very noticeable to the men who monitor me walking down the long hallway, much like a walk of shame, to the restroom every hour.

Each man works with his door open, each looks up from his computer as I walk by. But the man with the ponytail, whose office oh-so-sadly resides in that sad space between the men's and women's restrooms (how does that even happen!) he notices the most. He looks up and he judges me, each.time. He looks at me as if to say, "you're peeing again?" And I return a look that says, "you're office is next to the restroom, what do you even do!"

I see him sometimes when I walk around outside or am coming to work, and his looks says, "you're that girl, that girl that pees all the time." And my look says, "your pony tail is much much longer than I thought it was now that I see it in the daylight and not in the shadows of your basement bathroom office."