Have you ever read a blog entry that made you thrilled someone else in the world thought the same way you did? Yes. Of course you have. That happened to me today. I read this entry and the following portion spoke to my SOUL.
(Disclaimer: I’m aware the entry was also about good NST results, breech babies and scheduled c-section dates. Things that are much more important than public bathroom opinions.)
I am not the squeamish sort. I sit in public bathrooms. I do not use a paper liner even when they are on offer. And if the previous tenant hasn’t flushed, I am never overly distressed; I’ll do the job myself. Using my hand. (I digress here to decry another unpalatable flavor of bathroom outlaw, the foot-flusher. I mean, Jesus, I’m not prim. But no one should have to confront anyone’s bottom-of-the-shoe-on-the-bathroom-floor germs when performing a simple flush. Foot-flushers, take warning: you are first against the wall of the stall when the revolution comes. Wait, no, second, after the black-hearted squatters.)
FINALLY. I can shout a hearty, “Here, Here!” Do you know how many times I have pretended that I care about public bathrooms? Well – let me rephrase that. I do care in the sense that – if I can avoid it – I stick to fast-food places and rest areas on road trips. I prefer not to use gas station bathrooms, especially the external ones that require a key from the cashier. (Why are those always the worst? Do people feel the need to be more disgusting because it took more effort to get there?) But overall? I just DO NOT CARE.
I don’t stress out if the toilet hasn’t been flushed and I don’t freak out if there are no liners to use. As a matter of fact, I think I’ve only used liners once or twice my whole life. And yes, I too SIT ON THE SEAT. I don’t hover. But my Lord – I have pretended that I hover in conversation before because I’m scared if I admit that I sit that those in the conversation will be so repulsed they’ll run away screaming.
Thank you, Julie. You made me feel comfortable admitting I’m comfortable sitting.
(OMG. That totally rhymed. And it would have been a great line in a musical. Much like “Once More, With Feeling.” Yes. I’m still obsessing over Buffy if you were wondering.)
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Public bathrooms. Not something I find necessary to be concerned with. I’ve never been even remotely close to being a germaphobe, so why bother flushing a toilet with my foot (And making the next person “bottom-of-the-shoe-on-the-bathroom-floor germs”) when I don’t worry about doorknobs into or out of the bathroom. I just don’t care.
I’m too busy worrying about whether or not the Krispy Kreme across town will have “Hot Fresh Now!” lights on when I take the time to drive all the way out there. Because if they don’t? It kinda makes the trip worthless.