Stalling Tactics

Enough strange occurrences have happened to me in the last week in the realm of public restroom facilities that I suppose the Porcelain Gods are influencing me to give them some pub here on YAB. In fear of getting caught without toilet paper sometime in the near future as retribution, I guess I’ll oblige them now. Three vignettes, good readers.

UNO! - Dave Barry in one of his eleventy billion books explains to his female readers the protocol men employ when using a public restroom. I won’t steal his comedy, but I will briefly explain it. If there are five urinals on a wall and they are labeled A-E with A being closest to the door and E being closest to the back wall, there is a specific order of use as additional men enter the bathroom. Gent 1 uses E, Gent 2 uses A, Gent 3 takes C, and Gent 4 waits until one of A,C, and E is vacant. B and D are not options.

I was just doing my part, as I walked into the restroom at Macy’s Monday evening when I saw that A and C were being used and E was open. I took it, even though I discovered it was the one for the vertically challenged. Not a big deal, I thought at the time. But then Guy A and Guy C left. A janitor came in, and saw an empty restroom with me at the far stall, the kids’ stall. Like I had picked that one because I couldn’t handle the regular height. I swear he laughed when he put those puzzle pieces together. And this is one of those instances where there’s nothing you can do. Karma just flushed your dignity

DEUX! – Shortly thereafter, I left the men’s room at precisely the time a woman was entering the ladies’ room. As the door was closing, I lifted my head (which was difficult, considering the jr. camper complex the janitor harnessed me with) and briefly saw inside. Can someone please explain to me why the front room (yes, I said front room) of the women’s restroom has a COUCH and COFFEE TABLE in it? This is no mistake. Macy’s has their furniture department on the 3rd floor, not back here (side question: why are department stores bathrooms at least a half-mile from the merchandise? I feel like I’m a Goonie running from Mama Fratelli in this labyrinth.)

Ladies of YAB, why do you need plush seating and neatly fanned magazines in your public restrooms? And answer me the bigger question, does the back half’s luxury match the front? Do the sinks have faucets that are shaped like swans and spout forth rich chocolate? Are there flat panel TVs that compliment your hair? Do the mechanical hand dryers have a caramel scent to their air? I demand answers!

THREEVE! – This one is much shorter, but at least it doesn’t revolve around my misfortunes. Before my class presentation on Tuesday night, I stepped inside the academic hall bathroom to make sure my tie was straight and my hair wasn’t mohawked. As I stood in front of the mirror in silence, the air was suddenly filled with the musical stylings of the guy in the middle stall. At the top of his lungs, he gave me a rousing rendition of the chorus from a Collective Soul tune.

“Whoa-oh-ah-oh…Heaven let your light shine down!”

You have to love people with iPods and no sense of volume control.