At the risk of sounding pervy, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the public loos of America. There are questions and someone has to ask, so I vote me.
In a nation of very tall people where most of them were brought up to never come out of their bedrooms naked, the toilet doors of America must be filed under, “Things that make you go hmm…?”
I’m 6’3” and by no means the tallest guy in town, and yet if I walk too near the doors in the loos, an accidental look to the side will let me know way too much information about the person in there.
There are the peek-a-boo gaps on either side of the doors, usually about a centimeter or so. It’s as though the doors just kind of float in space. Like the person in there is holding a police riot shield up. It makes no sense at all; in a land where people are always screaming, “too much information,” this is as TMI as it gets.
In this day and age where people scour Facebook for every morsel of grit they can find on another human being, in a place that spawned reality TV and Perez Hilton, there is far too much being revealed in the bathrooms here. Do they not know? Do they know and not care? Do they know and pretend not to care? Does Halliburton have the door contract and so we’re stuck with this design?
Even looking down won’t help, for you can see under them without too much trouble, where you’ll notice that most of America really does wear Chuck Taylors. Should have bought stock in that company, damn…
Where are you supposed to look when you go into the bathroom? The ceiling? Does the Privacy Act not extend to the WCs of this great nation?
Then, you arrive at the urinals. Which all have modesty screens in between. Ladies, these are smaller riot shields that come out from the walls in between each pee station.
Which to me is just weird. I mean, where I come from, even if you’re not gay, you have a subtle scan around when you take a slash. I know this is true because I’ve drawn it out of my straight, drunk male friends. Every guy likes to know where his pecker stands in the pecking order of things. But I’ve lost track in America, I think I’m doing OK, but these screens are so high I wouldn’t know.
But the weirdest question of all is, if you can build these so well, why do I have to catch the slivers of reality on my way out when I’m just trying to wash my hands?
At least now we know the reason women go to the toilet in pairs; to discuss the lame-o loo situation. And their dates.