Public restrooms are already uncomfortable. But being tall makes them more so.
During lunch my senior year of high school, it was typical to visit the ladies room with a purpose. Unlike the other girls who found it necessary to reapply their Fantastic Lash and giggle about boys, my visits were strictly business related. I didn't bring a girlfriend or advertise. But sometimes, my friend Jenny and I would be on the same schedule. So we went to the lou. I got in the stall, did my thing and stood up. Jenny had exited her stall already and was washing her hands. I talked to her, probably about the night's basketball game. I'm was watching her as I buckled my belt and realized, "I'm behind the door of the stall, but I can see over the door." Being 6'1" at the age of 18, poses a problem of high school bathroom manufacturers, I suppose. But their design flaw makes it pretty uncomfortable for myself Jenny, and Kate, a girl who was looking in the mirror.
I look over the top of the stall into the mirror again when I hear Kate say, "Woah, Joy! Remind me not to use the bathroom when you're in here." Way to make me feel like a perv, Kate. Like I'm going to check in on the people next to me to see how things are going. I don't even want to be in my own stall. Public rest rooms are really strange. Except at the Loring Pasta Bar, that experience is always fun. Shower heads for faucets. Check it out.
Anyway, from then on, I noticed this about bathrooms. I don't notice the amenities, light fixtures, or paper towel dispensers (only if they're empty), but I do notice the height of the bathroom doors. The University of Minnesota Law School has the shortest doors, causing me to have blinders on the entire time. I could look over to say, "Hi," but that would be really strange for me, I suppose the other lady as well.
My new office, though, has nice, tall doors. I can't see over them. I can feel like I'm not imposing on anyone. But I'll have to test it out when I'm wearing heels.