As I understand it, the unspoken rule mandates that handicapped stalls in public restrooms are off-limits so long as there are other stalls available. The rule makes sense, since you never know when a “differently abled” individual will enter the joint looking for a good place to tinkle. Sometimes, though, all the stalls are taken except for the big one marked with the wheelchair icon, and you just don’t feel like waiting. Whenever I find myself in that situation, sheepishly occupying a handicapped stall, I always feel an excessive amount of paranoia and apprehension, fearing the statistically unlikely event that a handicapped person will enter the restroom at that moment and be forced to wait his turn. You couldn’t imagine how many times I’ve exited a handicapped stall expecting to see a crowd of wheelchair-bound toughs, bearing torches, bats, chains, pitchforks, and protest signs, ready to scream equality slogans at me before they start kicking my ass. Freaking political correctness. It’s got me running scared.