Ok, so I told Marc a recent story about an experience I had in a bathroom, and it enticed me to discuss the undiscussable. I really am wondering about this topic, and people's willingness to share their personal experience and knowledge on the subject, so here goes ...
I'm sure you have all seen the Seinfeld episode of "can you spare a square" with Elaine pleading the person in the stall next to her for some TP?
Well, aside from this I find that one of the most likely places for good humor and strange events is the bathroom. It's a place where proper conduct is the least understood and oftentimes most violated.
Here's an appetizer:
1. Can you speak with another man standing next to you in the stall? Does this rule apply only if there is a "privacy panel" or if you already know the person? Can you just say hello, how's it hangin'?
2. When having this discussion, do you look at the wall straight ahead, perhaps for some graphitti (sp?) a.k.a. for a good time call 867-5309, or are you allowed to make eye contact. What about jokes, are they appropriate?
3. What about those who pull their pants/trousers all the way down vs. those who just unzip. What is the proper protocol? Does it vary based on the formality of the event?
4. Can one fart when standing up at the stall? Is that acceptable? Do you go stealth or blow your horn? What about if there is a line directly behind you?
5. And cell phone use? I'll come back to this one but I believe it fair to say that it's a lot like driving. One should refrain from texting or talking on the phone while in the act. No one is this busy are they?
Number 2 stalls offer even more awkward moments:
1. When someone in the stall next to you is really "clearing the pipes" can you move your legs away from that adjacent stall?
2. Can you personally really let go if you need to or is it more polite to smoothly and quietly as possible take care of your business?
3. How much TP is appropriate? One square ... CMON! 4, 5, 15, 20? Does it depend on the size of your hand, the size of your poop, the size of your bum, or what?
4. How about the paper or plastic issue? What do you use to cover the toilet seat? Or do you go bareback?
5. What about the free reading offered in some stalls. Now if it's on the floor, suffice to say "no way". However, what if hanging nicely on the rail, or stuffed in the crack between the TP holder and the stall?
See!!! I'm sure for those of you that have endured in reading this far that these are intriguing questions to contemplate. For those that didn't make it this far they are just plain gross. But in the interest of casting away the mystique and educating others, don't we owe a little blogging to such topics?
These are the nagging and often misunderstood mysteries of toilet etiquette. Lots of material for a Seinfeld or any other sitcom willing to push the envelope. For anyone willing to share, please do.
What a hoot. You guys ought to be in movies.
ReplyDeleteWhen Jerry was about 5 years old we took him to a live theater production. It was a semi dressup afair. At intermission we stood in line at the urinals. When it was Jerry's turn I stood behind him and prepared him for his performance. He was head high to the business of the guy to our right. No patitions. Jerry was staring straight at the poor guys business and he couldn't get his flow started. It was very quite in the lines and probaly had 30 people waiting to go. I grabbed Jerry by the shoulder and sort of twisted him away from the guy and told him to mind his own business and go. He turned around to me and said "but dad, that man has a broken penis." Several loud snorts fron the assembled audiance. I told Jerry in a very firm voice to just go and stop worrying about other people. The poor guy just put er' up and called it a day. I really felt bad for the guy. He probably really had to go.
Later, before the lights went down for the second act, I was wispering the experiance to Pat. She sort of giggled about it. It was then that I felt the presents of burning eyes upon me. It was theater in the round, and accross from us was our urinary friend. He was giving me one of the worse go to hell looks I have ever received. I really feared an ass whupping.
I have often wondered if it was raelly broken or, like Mr. Clinton's, just bent.
Pops B