The Stall

Pissing in the ancient, 24 hour single stall of the women's washroom at the lakeview restaurant. 2am. Tired and mullish. I didn't lock the stall because the metal latch looked bent and i didn't figure on anyone bursting in. Voices loud outside the door. A young woman preocupied with fun opened the door to the restroom proper.
I fumbled with the lock absent mindedly with one hand while i rested my chin in the other hand, nearly done pissing.
"Fuck it", I thought when the lock wouldn't slide closed. I put my hand against the door to prevent her from barging in. I grabbed a fistful of toilet paper and began to wipe when i felt her shove against the door. It opened a crack. I pushed it closed. This goddamn woman pushed back even harder and caught a rewarding (and unfortunately prolonged) glimpse of my ass, mid wipe. She closed the door as I said, "what the fuck?!?!".
Humilitation was sinking me down the toilet with my own urine. "Well who doesn't lock the door??", she asked rhetorically, aiming to point out my own idiocy and how all of this was really my fault. Fair enough.
Once I was standing pants pulled up, I managed to lock the door no problem. I took an extra moment to allow my mortified shoulders to relax after stiffening with surprised embarassment. I didn't look at her when I left, but thought to myself, "Who the fuck shoves open a door in a washroom that has just been agressively pushed closed against them?!"