i was in a baby blue parka and snow pants

i hated the loblaws washroom

tucked away behind pallets and boxes, shelves and products no one really cared for

it was unseen, a blind spot

where creeps could linger and stalk from the shadows and mothers would hurry their tiny-bladdered children to

there was only one washroom, genderless, with a change table that always smelled

the toilet seat was too long and never felt cleaned properly

some place kids used to joke you'd get AIDS from if you fell in

a place where i kept thinking of how little i knew about AIDS and hidden bathrooms

but we always went there

somehow someone always needed the loo and i hated going in with you

watching your hairy pussy make contact with chipped plastic

the whiff of soiled diapers and too much rash powder in the air

so i'd wait outside

right by the door

quivering in my itchy uniform after a too-long day at school

i bet you hated doing the shopping during rush hour just as much as i did, but it was on the way

and i felt in the way inside and outside

and then he came

him and his son, probably my age give or take genital privilege

(i could pee standing up too if i tried)

and i stood there waiting, small, single digit years old

coated in baby blue winter gear, snowy toque, and swishing snowpants that made me self-conscious but warm in blizzards

and he, your dad, called me a cat

told me i was beautiful

snickered

grinned

elbowed you playfully without removing his gaze from

a minor

a child

clad in enough gear to fight off a storm

but not enough to fight off his invasive look

"please please please finish in there mom" i pleaded in my mind

"please please get out here" i begged internally

"please make him go away"

maybe if i blinked enough

the moments where i dont see him would be enough to make him disappear

i wanted to disappear

to blend into the shelves of forgotten items with dust coating the potentially-outdated

to be able to pee standing up

to not have a sense of smell so i could tolerate hiding in the washroom and just turn towards the walls and look anywhere but at my mother's stark biology

but it didn't happen like that

instead i waited like a melting snowball being eyed by a creep

wishing for time to go faster or to not exist at all, whichever would come first

you made me feel so small, so tainted, so violated, and i didn't even have the words

but now i do

i was a kid

you asshole, you pedophile, you piece of shit

and two decades later i still see your smirk