Maybe they’re singing because they feel my joy at finally catching a couple minutes to take a restroom break during a busy shift.
Or maybe it’s a celestial choir preparing to call me home, and it’s right there in the men’s room that I’m going to meet my final reward.
Actually, it appears to be the door when it doesn’t close all the way and latch. The air moves through the crack, creating an ethereal sound, like a choir of angels holding an infinitely sustained note full of joy, beauty and transcendence.
Also, I should probably stop drinking so much water.