The Baroness is going on a major rant.
About public bathrooms.
Again.
It's summer. It's hot. In the great chain of honor, I'm honoring my yogi by honoring my body by keeping it hydrated.
Really hydrated.
Like the great Derek Zoolander once said, "Moisture is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty", I tend to be all about the moisture (hence, my great beauty)(which you'll just have to trust me - is there. In spades, baby). As a result of being so moisture-vigilant (because really - have you ever had a dehydration headache? Not so pleasant), there is the subsequent vigilance that must be attended to, say every half an hour or so.
Since we've been gallivanting all over the province this summer with our tres-French exchange student, I have had to attend to this all over the place.
And I gotta tell you.
Well, you know.
Here's the latest corollary of my on-going obsession.
*Warning: Digusting Factor is at Orange. I repeat, Disgusting Factor is at Orange.
1. Toilet Seat Jiggle
How many of us have unknowingly plopped our behind down, only to have the seat skate across the surface of the rim at lightning speed, nearly slamming us up against the stall wall?
How many of us have almost landed on the sticky, icky floor?
How many of us have almost put our backs out trying to right ourselves before we fall?
How many of us have had this thought racing through our head - "How f@%$#ing long would it take for some lame-ass maintenance person to sweep through the restrooms once a week, and tighten the screws that hold the seat on tight?" or "Damn it - I knew I should have brought that combination screwdriver/crescent wrench in my purse!"
So many questions, so few satisfactory answers.
To those accountable for the public washroom (Women's only - like I could give a rip about the Men's), if you're only going to check these necessary pieces of hardware every quarter century, maybe consider installing bars on either wall of the inner stall; so the Baroness has something to cling on to before my ass starts shimmying around like a Ouija Board with a very urgent message from beyond (A B-R-O-K-E-N H-I-P I-S I-M-M-I-N-E-N-T).
2. Floaters - Genus 1
I'm not talking about your usual waste here - I'm talking about hygiene products (oh, the irony) that have suddenly become performance art.
Ladies (and young girls - as you may be new at this kind of thing) - for the love of all that is holy and hygienic - if your tampon magically propels itself out of you into the bowl, GO GET IT!!!
It was yours, and it is your garbage. Don't think that just because the kayak is no longer in the Thule, it's no longer yours to worry about. Take some responsibility, and stop expecting someone else to fish it out because it's icky. Get used to icky - it will happen often in your lifetime.
Ladies (and young girls - as you may be new at this kind of thing) - for the love of all that is holy and hygienic - if your tampon magically propels itself out of you into the bowl, GO GET IT!!!
It was yours, and it is your garbage. Don't think that just because the kayak is no longer in the Thule, it's no longer yours to worry about. Take some responsibility, and stop expecting someone else to fish it out because it's icky. Get used to icky - it will happen often in your lifetime.
Same goes for those sad little thong-pads that have lost their glue to fabric quotient. It's yours.
Deal.
I swear to God - when did women start to feel entitled enough to leave this mess for others to take care of? I'm an old-school public washroom user, and this disgusting trend is relatively new.
I blame you, Paris Hilton. You skanky socialite. You, my dear, are ruining the public washroom experience for all of us non-heirs. And it's so not hawt.
I blame you, Paris Hilton. You skanky socialite. You, my dear, are ruining the public washroom experience for all of us non-heirs. And it's so not hawt.
I also blame Courtney Love - just because.
Ugh.
3. Floaters - Genus 2
Could you possibly wait to leave the stall until your deposit has, er, cleared? And if it hasn't, whoa! Bully for you - someone is getting enough fibre! Yeah!
But seriously? Keep trying. Take those extra 2 minutes. It's really your civic duty (haha - I said duty...).
4. Mystery Wads of TP Al-l-l-l Over the Floor
Why, why, why?
What's in there that can't possibly be flushed?
Barf.
5. The Sticky Seat
Do YOU like sitting down on a sticky seat? I know that I don't like being ambushed by a sticky seat.
But maybe you're one of those bizarro ex-circus performers who squat on the seat and pee from staggering heights (which also loosens the toilet seat screws - you suck on so many levels - no wonder you're an ex-circus performer).
Reality check - if one were to look at a pristine, functioning washroom (who the f knows where you find such a specimen) (haha - I said specimen) - one could observe that great thought, structural engineering, and history has gone into the design.
You know the one? Where the seat is clean and dry, the screws are in tight, and the act of flushing actually carries whatever nastiness that just occurred away forever.
Sigh.
I'm beginning to re-think the whole Depends thing. And when I'm done, maybe I'll just cavalierly push open the door, and toss it into the nearest public toilet. Right. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Frickin'. Floor.
Because I'm special, and I don't have to do anything for anyone but myself. Screw y'all.
Now get me my chihuahua and a Red Bull.
There. I'm done (haha- I said done).
We're now back at Digusting Level Yellow. Repeat, Yellow.
Do YOU like sitting down on a sticky seat? I know that I don't like being ambushed by a sticky seat.
But maybe you're one of those bizarro ex-circus performers who squat on the seat and pee from staggering heights (which also loosens the toilet seat screws - you suck on so many levels - no wonder you're an ex-circus performer).
Reality check - if one were to look at a pristine, functioning washroom (who the f knows where you find such a specimen) (haha - I said specimen) - one could observe that great thought, structural engineering, and history has gone into the design.
You know the one? Where the seat is clean and dry, the screws are in tight, and the act of flushing actually carries whatever nastiness that just occurred away forever.
Sigh.
I'm beginning to re-think the whole Depends thing. And when I'm done, maybe I'll just cavalierly push open the door, and toss it into the nearest public toilet. Right. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Frickin'. Floor.
Because I'm special, and I don't have to do anything for anyone but myself. Screw y'all.
Now get me my chihuahua and a Red Bull.
There. I'm done (haha- I said done).
We're now back at Digusting Level Yellow. Repeat, Yellow.
13 comments:
Ick. I hate public restrooms. And yes, those who hover usually leave their piddle all over the seat for the next unsuspecting person.
I have a little ritual.
1. Stop
2. Visually inspect (move on to another stall if possible or if needed)
3. Repeat as necessary
4. Grab some toilet paper and wipe the seat, whether it needs it or not (which also helps to determine the stability of the seat and whether there is TP)
5. Cautiously sit.
6. Make sure to leave it a better place than I found it.
Why can't everyone do that??
Peace - D
*gag*
Hey! Hey! Hey! (2 Hey's would have been followed by "we're the Monkees")
I was right there with you baroness until you brought my little dogs into it. I strenously object to objectifying Chihuahuas in the name of Paris Hilton and her mentaility.
Besides, my girls are far too cool to hang with someone that swills Redbull!
Dude, have you been peeing where I work? Because you completely named every problem wrong with our bathroom. I shudder when I walk in.
T.m.i.
Funny as hell, but t.m.i.
Yay,I figured it out and I am an idiot (the comments thing)
I have to say in my old workplace - a corporate building full of educated ladies too, I would regularly find in our bathrooms:
-A stench that would fell a buffalo
-Floating debris such as you mentioned
-One time there was poop on the WALL
-Yes you heard me right - the WALL
-Pee on floor
-Toilet paper all wet and stuck to the floor
-Pee on seat (ICK!)
-Poop smear on seat
-Unflushed toilets
So you are not alone Baroness. The ick factor is everywhere.
Countess RiverPoet: My routine is the same as yours. But here's the dilemma - what happens if you've gone through stall after stall after stall, and you REALLY have to go? Basically, you become someone's potty maid. Ugh.
Countess iPost: Have some water and sit down, hon.
Countess AG: You know how every family has their outlaws? The ones they shun and refuse to acknowledge as their own? I would think that Ms. H's pets are the fallen branches from your chi chis' family tree. I would never insult your girls - I just needed something associative w/La Hilton. No offense meant. Truly!
Countess Candy: Sadly, it appears as though this is a worldwide phenom. Yay, global village!
With the stinking global toilets...
Count of Brown: Dude, do you not know how to follow Homeland Security guidelines? I was trying to put things in a context you Amurr-kans can understand.
I did warn you.
But Code Red just seemed kind of wrong.
Darling Guv: I guess college degrees have nothing to do with hygiene intelligence. Sad. What else does one do with a BA? (haha - I said BA!!)
Ewwww. After having my bladder muscles tested, I have decided to forgo hydration. It's overrated.
Countess MPM: This dessication plan could do wonders for your quest to become a more svelte Mama. Hey, it worked for Nefertiti!!
"Don't think that just because the kayak is no longer in the Thule,"
Actual LOL.
And yes, public restrooms are disgusting. Especially in summer.
Countess Nicole: I was SO hoping that someone would appreciate that visual. It just seemed, oh I don't know - kind of summer-y and festive.
Thanks for the nod!
Yours Thuley, B von B
Countess NATUI: DON'T get me started on that. Where are the mothers that are supposed to be teaching their daughters about things like that?
Oh yeah.
They're peeing on toilet seats.
Countess NATUI: DON'T get me started on that. Where are the mothers that are supposed to be teaching their daughters about things like that?
Oh yeah.
They're peeing on toilet seats.
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