I’m writing about bathrooms today. This post has been bubbling up in my subconscious ever since I went to use the restroom in a restaurant recently. I was faced with two doors. One had a picture of a rooster on it and the other a picture of a hen. My first thought was:
Chickens? Why are there pictures of chickens on the bathroom doors?
Then I realized I had to pick a door that best matched my anatomy. Really? So I stood there for a split second wondering if I were more like a hen or a rooster.
I’m a hen! That’s it; they want me to relate to the hen! Phew!
I walked into the hen door confidently.
I have been to other restaurants or bars where the signs were less obvious. Why do they do that? Perhaps it’s their way of finding lyrical beauty in everyday happenings, but I have to say that when I have to go the last thing I want is to have to stop and ponder whether I’m a clam shell or a sea anemone!
Then there is this new trend of not having to touch anything in a public restroom? What a great invention. I prefer the bathrooms where there is no door at all to touch just a curved entry. There is still the stall door itself to deal with however and I am a little frustrated when the automated toilet flushes at all the wrong times.
Wait, I’m not finished! I accidentally leaned to the left slightly and suddenly SWOOSH!
Ok, now I’m finished. Take it away. Well, go on! Flush now!! No?
So I sway back and forth, move in, move back, flap my arms (ah, now I get the chicken analogy) and still nothing. Aargh!
Next are the auto soap dispensers and the auto on/ off taps to deal with. The soap dispenser usually works just fine, and may even spit out a blob of strong smelling soap but the tap…
I eye the sink nervously then I move my hands back and forth under the tap.
Come on, come on, please, please, please COME ON! Nothing.
Move to the next sink and pray for water. If successful there is still the towel dispenser to conquer. That is if there is a towel dispenser. Don’t you hate hand blowers? They never really dry your hands. You always have to resort to wiping your hands on your clothes. However, I was in an airport bathroom recently which had these hand blowers that were amazing. You dipped your hands into them and within a few seconds every drop of moisture was gone. I was a little alarmed by how impressed I was.
One recent public bathroom I visited had the seat wrapped in plastic. You pressed a button and the plastic was rotated so you had a fresh section of plastic on your seat. How the heck does that work? Where does the old plastic go? How do I know my new plastic is really new? Inquiring minds want to know!
I’ve only scratched the surface of public bathroom talk. I haven’t covered out houses, the European experience, or port-a-potties yet. Another time perhaps. (I’m not sure how much more of this Jacquie can take.)