Apparently there's a creeper hanging around the building where I work. I found this out because building security thought I was him.

I talk to myself. Always have. Always will. I suppress it most of the time because I lose at Bluetooth-ir-Crazy otherwise, but when I'm alone, I don't bother.

I was talking to myself when I went into tbe womens room downstairs at the office. It looked wmpty, but aftet I entered the stall, I heard someome else flush and leave.

A minute later, the door to the women's room opened and a man yelled, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" in a this Slavic accent. "I SHOULD CALL THE POLICE."

I could see in the bathroom mirror that it was the security guard and he gad his phone out held in camera mode. One advantage of being tall, I guess. I wiped and dressed as fast as I could but I was already shaking.

The guard tepeated two or tbree more threats by the time I had my skirt on. I stood up and his eyes went wide. I opened the door and he started stammering. "Im so sorry! The other lady in hete lied to me and said a man was in here!"

"Take me to building management." I had to repeat my demand three times for him to turn around. He kept saying "she lied to me; it's not my fault" all the way to his managers office.

I interrupted him excusing his mistakd and told his manager he came into the bathroom and started yelling before hed established the facts on the ground. I reminded her that the hateful rhetoric on TV was no excuse for lapses in professionalism and I was deeply disappointed in their performance, letting other people's undrrstandable but uneducated panic guide their responses.

Im "fortunate" hyperlexia makes it easier to be articulate when I'm panicking.