WHEN YA GOTTA GO...

🎶 It's the end of the world as we know it... 🎶

No, I'm not talking about politics this time, although the same could be said.  

I'm talking about public restrooms.

There is a newish thing happening in the world.  It is the all-gender restroom.  My first experience was at SeaTac airport.  I saw the sign and noticed men and women entering and exiting a very large restroom together.  I walked in and sure enough, men and women were lined up at the sinks dutifully washing up after using a stall in a long line of stalls with floor to ceiling doors -- a nod to a bit more privacy than those 3/4 walls and doors around traditional stalls.  I stood up straight, shoulders back, and strutted right in as if this was no big deal.  

And truly it isn't, is it?  We are all human beings fully aware of the bodily functions of our sister/brother humans.  Using these "everyone welcome" restrooms is a bit like using a traffic circle -- everyone keeps moving, no long lines for anyone (it was always the women waiting in those lines since we could not just walk up to a peeing trough together.)  Plus, the whole male/female divide is much more fluid than we've ever chosen to recognize.  I love the diversity/inclusion vibe.

Until...

Let's just say, big public restrooms are one thing.  Smaller, old school stalls in a two-stall very cozy restroom are another.  How to be delicate here?  I found myself in rather urgent need of a restroom in a local restaurant (maybe it was the spicy sauce?) so I was relieved to find the "all gender" restroom empty.  But just as I pushed the stall door open, a rather handsome young man came through the door and entered the stall next to me.  What to do?  I had a debate with myself that went on way too long.  Do I just let it rip?  Or do I sit and squeeze until he left.  I am a 73 year old grandma which grants me some license in the "who gives a shit?" (LOL) department, but I'm still sensitive enough to my own ego and right to privacy to not want the guy to smirk as he recognized my shoes as I walked past his table on my way back to my own seat.  I waited, uncomfortably, assuming he was wondering what silent shenanigans was happening in the stall next door. Whatever.  Choose your embarrassment.  

Would it have mattered if this was a "Women's Room"?  Yes and no.  One still doesn't want to share personal smells and sounds that are better experienced in private, but the Sisterhood seems more understanding of these things somehow.  We know what our bodies do and that they are not always well-behaved.  I've heard the urgent cry of "Anybody out there got a tampon?" more than once.  We get it.  I'm here for you, sister!

Another (age-old) dilemma of shared restrooms is the toilet seat problem.  In single space restrooms it just galls me to find the seat up.  I am immediately pissed off and judgmental about the entitled, selfish prig who couldn't be bothered to put the seat down like a considerate person naturally would.  I have to rip off a bit of TP to protect my fingers from touching the (gross) seat to put it down so I can use the toilet.  Sheesh. 

Recently after a restroom stop at our fave coffee shop, I re-joined Hub at our table with my complaint and he pointed out how sexist my rant was.  "Well, what about men?  We have to touch the seat to put it up after women use it to sit.  Unless you want us to pee all over it."  Grrr..logic!  Fine!  So what is the seat etiquette?  

Can we take a vote?  Pass a law?  No...that doesn't seem to work.  I know!  I'll be the Dictator in charge of the Department of Toilet Seat Usage in the new administration and we will just do it the way I like it!  Men will raise the seat to pee, and lower it again before leaving the room.  The norm will be seat down.  Just like it should be.

Also, no matter who uses the toilet, the whole TP issue needs to be addressed.  It seems I'm in the minority when it comes to leaving a "tail" of TP hanging below the metal holder in order for the next person to have an easy time grabbing it.  No one enjoys sitting there spinning and spinning the roll feeling for the end of the the TP which seems to stick to itself in there not unwinding until one has nearly given up and left to drip dry.   What's so hard about leaving a little tail of paper hanging down?  

Or if possible, leave a little art.  My housecleaners are so creative about folding of blankets, doing Kleenex box art, and TP roses.  So now when I'm out in the world, and when it's possible depending upon the type of TP holder,  I've taken to creating TP roses too.  It's the little acts of kindness that will see us through.

At least that's the view from here...©

LYRICS: It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine: R.E.M.