When I was in 2nd grade, the class field trip was to Lincoln Park Zoo, where my group leader Mrs. Van Prooyen made sure we learned two things: Mammals feed their young, and don’t sit on toilet seats.
That last lesson set me on a course of hovering over public toilet seats (i.e.–a restaurant, store, or other public venue. Somehow schools and offices don’t bother me, unless the seat is dirty) for years, which can be very difficult and disgusting. It’s fairly well-known that a lot of women’s restrooms are actually more disgusting than men’s because of the hover factor. We can’t control the spray like men can, so sometimes when we’re hovering, the urine gets all over the seat. It’s gross. And it makes going to a public restroom a real chore. How high will the toilet be–will it be a pain to hover over? Will I be the moron getting the seat filthy?
Luckily, in the last few years, there’s been enough press about toilet seats and disease that made me realize that if the toilet seat is clean, you don’t really need to worry about contracting anything from it. Germs and bacteria can’t survive on the cool seat, so if you’ve got a clean seat, it’s OK to sit down.
It took me a little while to wrap my brain around this concept–after all, I’ve got to unlearn lessons from second grade. However, I’ve recently gotten comfortable enough with the facts, and I now sit. It makes life much nicer. I think other women are getting on board with that too because a lot of public toilets have been cleaner, and overall, having to go to a public restroom has become much less stressful. Except when someone ruins it for us.
Last weekend, the Boy, Guy, and I went to Risque Cafe, a new BBQ/craft beer place in Wrigleyville. The food is good, and the beer list is awesome, but the bathroom situation is pretty minimal. The good thing is that there’s bathroom parity: Both men and women are stuck with one toilet each. However, when you’re drinking a lot of beer (and water), the bathroom line issue gets a little rough. Maybe even rougher for some.
I had to go to the bathroom for a second time during the evening and had to wait in line. My first experience was fine, but this time, when the door opened, a guy came out. A guy! Usually it’s the women who can’t wait and giggle their way into the men’s room! OK, he had to go. I have to go, so get out of my way, Checked Hat Guy.
But this moron decided to urinate all over the toilet seat, and he decided he didn’t have to flush the toilet either. The toilet seat had been clean for a couple of hours–the sisterhood had kept it easy on everyone. This jerk ruined it for all of us. Fuming, I hovered as best I could, and apologized to the girl waiting after me, telling her that that loser had gone all over the seat.
I am not known for having an even-keeled temper, and believe me, if I didn’t ever want to go back to Risque Cafe, I would’ve clocked this idiot. Nevertheless, I found this Checked Hat Bozo, who was there with a buddy of his, got in his face, and yelled, “Thanks for peeing all over the seat AND for not flushing the toilet!” Then I was smart enough to get back to my table, where I stewed over this scintillating and appetizing event with the Boy and Guy for a good ten minutes. What can I say? I’m a great conversationalist, obviously.
The Boy said I did the right thing. I called the guy out and probably embarrassed him in front of his buddy. I still wish I could’ve clocked him, but calling him out on the Internet is about as good a revenge as I can probably get.
