The Scoop on Public Toilets
Okay, I know your first reaction to this title might be Ewwwww. What kind of sick lady is this? But actually, I've been thinking alot about public restrooms: what my personal perceptions are on the subject, how others might regard them and, naturally, how they relate to the meaning of life, the nature of the universe, and the moral decay of humanity. You know, light and mindless stuff. I know what you guys are thinking and NO,I DO NOT have a lot of time on my hands. I'm just weird. Wired that way from birth. But cast your preconceived notions to the winds and hear me out:
First, the heavy stuff. What's with the paper as gasket? I mean, do you guys really take the time to pry that paper that's only 27 microns thick (miss that lesson in physics did ya?) It's not as easy as you think. Must be designed by a group of doctors that specialize in the microsurgical reattachment of extremities, retinas and other procedures requiring superhuman fine motor skills. The same people who designed the peanut packages for Southwest Airlines. I chipped one of my teeth opening one of those damned things. Once you get the paper out of the little toilet seat shaped container, accidently fingering those same spots on the container that nose pickers and butt itchers touched, try laying it in perfect alignment on the seat. Might as well land the space shuttle in a 200 mph cross wind on a postage stamp, thing goes fluttering about like it has a mind of its own and here you are fresh out of paper weights to keep it from fluttering into the toilet. Then, you have to sit on it, armed with a distorted sense of security. Okay people. Germs are little. They pass through those microscopic holes in that paper like mosquito buzzing between the goal posts in the Alamodome. Anyway. Just turn your cheek to reality. When your ass breaks out in purple blisters oozing glow in the dark pus, don't come crying to me. That said, let's talk about some more disgusting stuff. Are you a brave butt against the porcelain girl or are you a hoverer? Me, I take one look at that split at the front of the toilet seat with all the crusty stuff and pubes and practically throw up. Next question. When you accidently splatter, do you wipe it off like a good girl. Next: do you do a very careful splatter check before you sit down? I hate those wet surprises. Ugh. Next: When you make bodily noises you'd rather keep to yourself, do you try to disguise it with a cough or nose blowing? Next: Do you ALWAYS flush? I mean, eewwwwww. I hate passing three or four stalls filled with crap, two tons of toilet paper, or maxi pads that look like they came from an exsanguination victim. Gross. Moving on. Do you wash your hands afterwards--every time, or do you wash them only when someone else is washing theirs when you get out of the stall? On the other extreme, do you protect yourself from the Bubonic Plague by using paper towels to shield your pristine fingers (which, by the way, you just used to wipe your ass) from faucet handles and door knobs? Finally (I think), do you have as much trouble as I do wresting paper towels from the dispenser. It's like pulling eye teeth from a rabid elephant, for god's sake. Better than the little blower thingie, though. Got no damn patience for those blasted things. They sound like a cross between a 747 and a walrus in heat. Rather just flick off the water and be done with it. Course when I get out, I always have to explain to my husband that, yes, I did wash my hands and no I didn't piss all over them.
Hope I'm not too crude for you. I'm sick of our society punishing everyone for being honest and open. If you can't take it, you have much bigger problems than an ass gasket can solve.