Bathroom banter

If you know me you know there are certain things that I don’t like to talk about. If we’re good friends I mostly lose this filter, but basically there are things I don’t like to talk about in mixed company. Goings-on in the restroom being primary among those things. Call me prude, call me pretentious, I really don’t care, and yes, I GET THAT EVERYBODY POOPS, but does everybody have to talk about it? Maybe some day we can discuss why I take the stance I do on private things, but for now let’s just let it be, k? Because this actually isn’t a post about poop.

But it is a post about things that bother me in regards to the bathroom. And as much as I want to list PLEASE DON’T PISS ON OR AROUND THE TOILET, I feel like that goes without saying. And if it doesn’t go without saying it SHOULD go without saying because if you do not understand the concept of pissing INSIDE the toilet you were probably raised in a barn, in which case, when you feel the need to relieve yourself please GO FIND A BARN. Thanks.


I don’t have an issue with public restrooms. I really don’t. I mean sure, it’s not a picnic destination, and there are probably people there that you wouldn’t want to let watch your kids but it’s a bathroom, I’m really not setting my hopes too high. That said, I think people often forget that PUBLIC means PEOPLE. As in, IF YOU DON’T LOCK THE DOOR PEOPLE WILL OPEN IT. See where I’m going with this one?? I cannot count how many times I have walked in on someone on the toilet. Literally, on the toilet. And you know, maybe it’s more awkward for them than it is for me but if you are the one using the restroom it’s your own damn fault so please stop punishing me for your negligence. It gets really awkward when I’m at work and this happens, because not only “hey, I just saw you on the pot!” but “hey! I just saw you on the pot and now we have to be around each other for a few hours and pretend that we aren’t only thinking about the fact that I just saw you on the pot!”. It makes me feel icky inside. It makes me feel like not only are we talking about poop but that I maybe saw your poop, and seriously, I CANNOT HANDLE THAT.

Moving on.

Sort of.

Until today I had never before felt betrayed in a restroom. In fact, I wouldn’t have even known what it could mean to be betrayed in a restroom. I was at a certain unnamed store (rhymes with Balmart) using the ladies room. This restroom was not particularly large, five stalls. Three of which were occupied, as I could plainly see and hear (they were rustling bags, okay?) And over their rustling of bags I could hear a lady leaving and having an interaction with a custodial gentleman who was inquiring if there were any other ladies still in the restroom. She said she wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure?? Lady, are you blind? There are multiple bags on the floor! So she calls into the restroom “is anyone in here?” I waited, thinking that one or both of the ladies on either side of me would respond and it would be silly if we all responded. They didn’t. I waited about seven seconds then shouted “YES!!”. I wish you could have heard that panic in my voice. Imagine that you hate talking about bathroom things in front of men, in fact you refuse to talk about bathroom things in front of men. And now a man is about to walk in on you doing bathroom things to find out that it isn’t just mirrors and make up and pink cushiony chairs with women lounging around smelling like roses blossoming in the sunshine on a late summer day! What if I hadn’t responded? Would no one have? Would the other two women have just let this gentleman walk right in and SEE US? And let’s say that poor guy walked in because NONE OF US SPOKE UP, how crazy and/or deaf would he think we all are? I know I’m being dramatic here, and okay maybe the other two women were on that same thought wave of hey let’s not all respond at once, but. . .Maybe. They. Weren’t. 
As I was washing my hands one of the mute women joined me and I refused to make mirror contact with her. She didn’t deserve to be in the women’s restroom. She should have to use the men’s restrooms that don’t have stall doors if she doesn’t care enough about privacy to speak up. Or she can just find a barn.

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