You like, totally ponder a dizzying array of possibilities. You could run back to the party. You could stand outside the stall like a creeper. You could totally scream at the top of your lungs in a horrified attempt at humor. Frankly, you're a little paralyzed. Do you knock? Do you cough and thereby acknowledge your presence making the situation about 50 times more awkward?
Unfortunately your body, as it has been consistently doing since the 7th grade, betrays you again by flinging you right at the door in a futile attempt to combine all three of your bizarre and seemingly random impulses.