“I ain’t no pilgrim,” I said in my best John Wayne voice as I approached the stall doors.
Selecting one that was ajar, I imagined I was the Duke kicking the saloon door open, and gave it a taste of my sneaker-shod heel.
It connected with a loud smack and caused the door to swing violently inward. I had only a moment to register the pair of feet and legs in what I had thought was an empty stall before hearing “Ow!”
Embarrassed, I said nothing and walked into the next stall and closed the door.
Eventually the man left.