The Modern Man and the Public Restroom Part 1

Every now and then something so important needs to be discussed, that uncomfortable and embarassing subject matter must be talked about frankly, scientifically, and professionally (Like your middle school sex-ed classes!).

This is not one of those times.

Recently, as I walked about a local shopping establishment, my body began to cry out that the diet Mountain Dew I had imbibed earlier wanted to return to the mountains immediately. I won't discuss the Power Bar.

I had a tough decision to make.

Do I ignore the call of nature, which at this point was starting to become more of a scream than a gentle cry, and hope I make it home before serious internal damage is done?

Or do I simply use the public restroom with the ubiquitous MEN'S sign and save myself possible future surgery in an area not meant for surgery at all? (Although I thought this sign was more appropriate) I mean, how bad can it be?

It sounds like an easy choice, especially if you happen to be one of the two ladies that actually read this column.

But it really isn't. It can be a choice that can redefine your mood, health, and belief in the overall goodness of the human race.

I of course, am talking about the life-altering experience of entering a public men's' room.

If a woman ever wants to be elected president, all she has to do is show a picture of a typically knarly men's public restroom and she'd be a lock. How can men run a country when they can't even keep a bathroom clean?

The amazing thing is how little women know about the men's' room. It's kind of like Elaine's surprise during Seinfield's "Shrinkage" show, but with slipperly floors. It's like the "I don't have a square to spare," show except with see-through toilet paper, a possible ax-murderer in the stall next to you, and graffiti that would make Eminem blush.

There seem to be three different types of men's public bathrooms to fear. These would be the basic store restroom (including gas stations and rest areas), the sporting event restroom, the public school restroom, and the port-o-potty. Four, four types of restrooms. (That's for Monty Python fans.)

Now I'm just talking about the public "store" restroom. As soon as you enter, you can feel the despair. That is, if the forbidding smell doesn't kill you outright. Dozens of normal modern men have entered before you only to find 1 of the 4 stalls empty, and I'm not talking about empty being "free of another human being." The one "clean" stall has a toilet seat with dubious backsplash marks on it since men can only leave the toilet seat up in their own homes.

As an aside, if you're a man and don't know about backsplash, use a typical urinal while wearing shorts.

If you're lucky, the stall door will actually function and maybe even lock, but more than likely you'll probably have to deal with that hole where the lock used to be which a ten year old always looks through to see if anyone is in the stall. Of course, the stall has no toilet seat protectors available, which is okay since you wonder how something manufactured out of paper that could be thinner than a row of molecules could actually protect you from anything. Seriously, if the manufacturers of public rest room toilet paper and seat protectors got together with scientists, we'd finally be able to miniaturize all those things like in the science fiction movies.

"Hey look John! A microscopic submarine! How did they do it?"
"Well, Biff, it's all due to our friends in the toilet paper industry!"

Now you notice that there is a liquid on the floor that could be from the janitor, it could be from condensation on the toilets, or, it could be something else. Whatever it is, it is now coating the bottom of your shoe. You try to hang your coat, but there's no hook. The urinals haven't been flushed in what appears to be days and you seem to be getting dizzy from that strange breathing shallowly out of the mouth thing you do whenever you enter a public restroom. Plus, you're doing that strange "hold the door closed with one foot thing" because the lock was broken and a man muttering Bible quotes has entered the facility.

"Pop quiz hot shot!" "What do you do? What do you do?" (Click here for the movie quote that came from)
a) Do the levitating toilet bit. (If you're a guy, you know what I'm talking about, although it's tough if your doing the hold the door closed thing.)
b) Try to expose your skin to as little of the seat as possible.
c) Just do what you do. If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
d) Run outside screaming and hope for the best.
e) Use the women's room. They're always clean.

Seriously, who are these guys? Who does this to a place that at home you probably spend most of your quality time in? Does this same phenomenon happen on the space station? Is this a reason to lose faith in mankind?

Whatever it is, I think maybe we just need one of these to make the world a better place.