Partywiththebooty

I asked the bartender if they had a washroom, he pointed me down a hallway. I ventured down the hall, it was also dim and more dilapidated than the bar. Lots of old wooden doors branched off of it leading to unknown places. I reached the washroom door, it was wooden and hung crooked on its hinges. I noticed that there was no mens and women's, just one for everyone to share.I shoved the door open. There were two sinks, a cracked mirror, two urinals, and three stalls. The paint was faded green, the led light flickered. It was quite creepy. I entered a stall, surprisingly clean, the toilet even had a seat! I was happy to find that there was a hole cut into the side of the black stall wall. Now to wait. An hour went by, only one guy used the urinal and left. Another hour. Disappointed but not discouraged, I went back to the bar. There was probably 50 people now, a few women and a lot of mid age men. I sat down at a table, pondering what to do. Then it dawned on me, I needed a way to. She had obviously been trying to say more than just Mom and Auntie are pains in the ass. It took me a while because I kept thinking I had nothing worth the effort of a law suit.It came to me about two minutes before the park superintendent arrived. I was the first person in their daisy chain. If I was negligent then everyone after me could have been as well. There was no way they could win such a suit. The Good Samaritan laws protected all of us from criminal charges. However Jill had reminded me that anyone could be sued. The publicity and lost time that the suits cost the defendants accounted for as many settlements as quilt.I wasn't sure what it meant or what could be done abut it, but there it was. Sally De Angelo most likely meant to name me in a law suit just to get at the park. The person who committed the crime was secondary to her. To give the devil her due, litigation was all she probably understood. It was most likely the only thing she knew to do, and as the victims.
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