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If there's one place we're all reminded of our place in the human "family", it's in the public restroom. We all need them on occasion, whether we like it or not, and I don't know about you, but when I really do, there are few places I'm happier to see.
Women, especially, are in it together from the get-go. We're reputed to need to go in together - falsely, in my case - but you know who you are. We often have to stand in those ridiculous lines (some of them starting from two sides of the room!) to even get in the door, much less in a stall. And whereas my goal is to spend minimal time in any public toilet, I know for a fact that not all women share this interest. I've witnessed full-on therapy sessions in the ladies room the closer it gets to last call, and recently a total stranger asked my opinion about her boyfriend's immigration status while I was washing my hands.
And this doesn't even cover the special place in a not-so-special place reserved for people who fix their hair and makeup at leisure when it's a one-stall situation. Consider the karma, is all I'm saying ( a concept that probably wouldn't matter so much in this 1000-stall Beijing option that Mrs. A. tips us off to.)
The priority for me though, aside from getting into a restroom when I need it, is to have it clean (Reasonably speaking, of course. I know I'm not at home, before anyone asks) and to keep it that way because someone else will be along shortly. That's why when two of my favorite bloggers wrote letters in recent days to the offending previous occupants of bathroom stalls, I thought perhaps it was time for some group therapy on Blogher. Because instead of doing it for themselves, some sisters, it seems, are leaving it to the next girl. (Please note that no word was rhymed with "sprinkle" in the writing of this post.)
Dear Woman Who Just Left This Bathroom Stall,
What the holy hell happened in here? My brain is racing through the possibilities. Did you splay starfish-style against the walls of the stall and misfire from above? Did you decide to practice a little yoga while you had some down time?
Only moments ago, we made eye contact as you passed; I noted your cute shoes. And now here I stand, preparing to wipe one-half-gallon of your urine off my toilet seat.
This rang a bell when I read it tonight. I knew someone had just recently written about this very same issue, but I couldn't remember who it was. Then a little farther down in the comments, there she was! Genie from Message in a Bottle responded.
There must be something in the air, because I had this exact same problem only two weeks ago. And yes, it’s totally gross.
Here's her June 25th Open Letter to Women Who Won't Sit on Public Toilets. It's the same message, expressed a bit differently: if you must stand up, clean it up, ladies.
It turns out that many women who commented on these posts have been walking around pondering this topic, if only subconsciously, and many of them want us all to just sit down .
Sarah Brown from Que Sera Sera is among them.
Of all my body parts I would rather put on a toilet seat, my ass is #1. Were you saving it to sit bare on your grandma’s velvet couch later that day or something?
Also, Nicole Kidman does this.
Jenn from Unfinished Object agrees:
Attention, women of the world: Just sit on the damn seat. Line it if you must, but just sit on it. There are more germs on your cell phone anyway.
Becky Haycox points out that what keeps hoverers off the seat also keeps them from dealing with the aftermath.
As far as I can gather in my gingerly-conducted research, women who “hover†above the seat often yield horrible, splashy results. The pee-phobia that makes them hover in the first place also keeps them from even thinking of doing any post clean up.
These posts gave rise to other ladies room ruminations as well.
Meercat wonders about the need to double up on the commode coverage:
A mystery to me is -
