The Women's Bathroom Support Group

It is 1 a.m. on a Friday night in Portland. Brooke tapped her alarm off and threw back the blanket. The only light was that of her phone and the range light over the stove that she never shuts off.

“It’s for Mouse. He likes it.” Mouse was a 12-year-old tabby that was quite blind so it was certainly not for his sake.

She had dressed before she had laid down on the sofa for her pre-outing nap. Her makeup was still perfectly in place because she “slept like a corpse” as Freddie once told her.

Freddie. Brooke lightly punched herself in the stomach as if the knot would dislodge. Freddie and Brooke were inseparable since sophomores in university all those years ago. Now she was planning to do the most ridiculous thing for the most ridiculous reasons, but she had to do something and this seemed insane enough to help. How? She did not know yet, but Brooke was assured by Viktoriya that all would be revealed.

Brooke put on her trusty Doc Martins that were the only shoes Viktoriya approved and twisted her hair into bun on top of her hair like Viktoriya had showed her. She stood in front of the long hallway mirror checking everything was as it should be and when she was satisfied there was nothing more to do, she grabbed the keys out of the shell dish on the hall table.

“I’ll be back soon.” She paused long enough to hear Mouse digging in his litter box as a reply.

What in the hell am I doing? I’m 35. I am a mature independent woman! This is stupid! Brooke was muttering to herself. She tended to talk to herself. A sign of genius! She locked the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Brooke had a 15-minute walk to talk herself out of this, but she kept hearing Viktoriya’s story of women empowering women and how these women could help you get to the core of the issue and solve all problems.

What is the issue? Is it Freddie? Is it me? Am I the asshole?

She remembered their first kiss. One inconsequential day after class, Brooke just asked him to kiss her. Just like that. He had looked so flustered, but he tilted his head and leaned in. It was nice, nothing earth shattering, but a comfortable warmth in her stomach rose to her cheeks and they were together ever since.

That has to be it! I’m smothering him! He’s trying to leave me! I’m too much! I’m not enough!

She turned up the street and could hear the thump, thump of bass low and below the high-pitched squeals of drunken 20-somethings. There was no lineup of club goers. They were either inside or on their way elsewhere. Two large bouncers guarded the door. As Brooke got closer, she could hear lyrics and pick out conversations of mostly nonsense. “Did you see her though?” “Are you coming to mine or what?”

Gawd. What am I doing?

The bouncer with the earpiece sitting on the stool noticed her first. Brooke stopped in front of him and you could see there was some confusion on the bouncer’s face.

“You coming in? Or picking up?”

“I’m going in. Please.” Brooke held out her I.D., but the bouncer did not reach for it.

“We close in 45 minutes.” The other mountain of a man waved his arm as if to usher her in. Brooke shoved her I.D. deep into her pocket and stepped inside.

Huh, no cover charge. I’ve still got it! Ignoring the fact that he did not ask to see her I.D.

The smell was a familiar mixture of cheap beer, cheap cologne, and expensive perfume. There was also a hint of some unidentified chemical she suspected was from the copious amounts of fog. The music seemed louder than necessary.

Where are their clothes?

Brooke was incredibly proud of herself for making it this far as she scanned the walls for the green neon bathroom sign. It was on the back wall pointing downstairs. The club was still quite full so Brooke felt like a salmon swimming upstream bumping into elbows, swerving around dancers, and nearly tripping over a laughing man on the floor getting helped up by his buddy. Everyone was oblivious to her existence so her outfit was as Viktoriya said, “Just the right amount of slutty to go unnoticed.” There was, however, a line down the stairs to the bathroom below. There were single gals on each step, but there was a congregation of five or six right in front of the bathroom door. The door kept opening and closing, giving glimpses of bright lights and legs in high-heeled shoes or boots.

The young lady on the step in front of Brooke had her arms and legs crossed. She looked up at Brooke and stated, “I will never make it.” Brooke reassured her that there were only 10ish more people and that should not take too long. The young lady shook her head and grabbed for the railing leading up, “I’m going to the Men’s.” Brooke moved down a step.

Closer. Closer to what? What on earth am I doing here?

At just that moment her phone was vibrating. It was Viktoriya.

“Are you there?”

Brooke took a photo of the line and sent it.

“I cannot believe you’re doing this!!! You go girl!!! Give me details!”

She replied with a thumbs up and shoved the phone in her pocket; she was moving down a step. It was slow going. Brooke was beginning to worry she would not make it to the bathroom before the club closed. She was now on the third step. She was able to fully see into the bathroom when the door opened. It was one of those times that the door swung open that she made eye contact with a scantily-clad, raven-haired lady with red rimmed eyes. The raven-haired beauty’s mouth dropped open as the door closed.

Brooke was sure the Raven was shouting “Get the old lady out of here!” but the door swung open and four or five ladies were waving her in. Brooke was not certain the finger pointing and waving was meant for her until the young lady on the step below said, “They mean you.”

The light was very bright and there was makeup and cans of hair stuff strewn amongst purses and balled up paper towels. The four stalls were occupied with a constant rotation of new bodies and a slam of the door. Brooke stood there feeling very old and incredibly silly. The Raven was not the leader. A shorter, afroed beauty was grabbing Brooke’s hands. This young lady was clearly very drunk. Brooke scanned the room and understood that they were all very drunk.

The afro bounced when she talked. Chantelle was her name and Brooke was told she looked just like Chantelle’s high school English teacher who was the best English teacher in all the land.

I’ve made a huge mistake.

“Why have you come to us?” Chantelle asked. Raven and two ladies who could be twins were all looking at Brooke with such sadness.

“I think my boyfriend-fiancé is either cheating on me or just doesn’t love me and I don’t know…” The tears came first followed by a sob and Brooke felt her body being crushed by bodies hugging her with a thousand words of encouragement and one sobbing “He’s an asshole!”

“What did he do?” “Where is he?” “You’re so gorgeous, even for your age.” “You don’t need him!”

Brooke felt like a dam had broken and she just could not stop the tears. Her body heaved with each breath only to let out more strangled sobs.

What is happening? Get a grip!

One of the young ladies had inadvertently unleashed Brooke’s bun and was now brushing her hair and another was rubbing Brooke’s arm “…shhh, shhh it’s okay, we’re here.”

A young lady was quickly ushered into a stall as Raven yelled, “Someone hold her hair!”

Chantelle stood back, but still had Brooke’s hands.

“Give us your phone.” It was a demand.

Immediately Brooke was digging out her phone and handing it to the outstretched hand of Raven.

WHAT THE FUCK? I just gave this chick my phone!

Brook watched as three of them huddled around Raven holding the phone swiping and tapping all the while Chantelle held Brooke’s hands and looked deep into her eyes with what Brooke could only describe as love. Brooke’s now braided hair was flipped over her right shoulder where Chantelle finally released Brooke’s hand to tug on the braid.

“You look like a brave warrior, Queen. Do you see all of us? We are here for each other. Down here in this shitty bathroom we are loving on each other and powering each other up. Those guys up there don’t get us. They don’t know what we need, what we deserve. We have to feed it to them. If we want to be with them, we need to show them how to be with us. We’re done sitting down. Do you understand?”

She is the wisest little lady. I was not like this at 20.

Brooke’s phone was being handed over top of Chantelle’s head with the words, “He’s cheating.”

Brooke had immediately double over. She knew this. She just did not know this, you know? She was rambling out loud. The group hug was back. Chantelle was patting Brooke on the back and they were all nodding.

Brooke whispered, “What am I going to do? I feel so stupid. I feel so alone.”

The pink-haired sister declared, “You’re going to tell him goodbye and you’re going to get on with it. You’re going to be fine. He’s the villain in this story and you are our Warrior Queen!”

There were cheers and more hugs and then suddenly the air changed. All the lights were on.

“Let’s go ladies!” Someone was banging on the door.

“Shit! Its 2 a.m.! My mom is going to kill me!” “Where’s my phone?” “Did you call an Uber?”

The gals were gathering their things as Brooke spotted herself in the mirror. Her face was red and swollen, but she looked different. She did not look sad; she looked strong. It was not just the braid and the semi-slutty clothes, there was something about being with these gals, drunk as they are, knowing that they care that made Brooke feel something.

Oh my God! This is what Viktoriya was saying. The younger ones have it figured out!

They were all climbing the stairs. Some young men were waiting for some of the ladies while others linked arms and shouted familial sayings to the bar staff on their way through the club. Brooke sauntered behind them all, taking it all in.

I miss this type of camaraderie. I put all my love and life into Freddie and now I have no one. Well, I have Viktoriya, but that is because she literally will not leave me alone.

Once they were all on the sidewalk, Raven turned to Brooke, “You are older and wiser. You came here ‘cuz you knew where the love was. Whenever you need us, we’re here.”

They hugged and Raven was off.

“By the way, my name is Bella!”

Of course it is.

Brooke was never good at walking and texting so she waited until she got home. Sure, it was almost 3 a.m., but she felt Viktoriya would be upset if she did not give an update.

“You were right. They are wise and all knowing. Let’s do brunch.”