Trips to any public bathroom used to be a completely innocuous. I suppose I need to retract that statement when I consider the bathroom key attached to a baseball bat sized stick that most gas station attendants handed you back in the old days, but I digress. I have just about had it with the across the board, non-conforming “upgrading” that is happening in public ladies rooms near and far.
I want all restroom designers to follow a standardized plan. Make us all have to flush our own toilet or have them all do this for you. I will take this a step further and ask that the motion sensor used to activate the flush be dialed back a bit, so that I do not have a near bidet experience anytime I sneeze or cough. Make all water faucets turn on automatically or not. Make all soap dispensers automatically squirt soap in your hand or not. Pick an agreed upon spot on all paper towel dispensers so that I don’t get caught waving my arms on all sides when it is one of those that you manually have to dial the button on the side like an old rotary phone. I used to like the air dryers for your hands, but the velocity at which these new and improved blow dryers complete their mission makes the skin on the back of my hands look as if I am 20 years older than I am. I swear, I can be easy to get along with. All this girl wants is some good old conformity. Stop making us feel like Allen Funt has come back from the dead and is going to use the footage of our experience for a reboot of Candid Camera.
There was a time long, long ago that a ladies room had an attendant. She was usually about your grandmothers age. She was dressed in a crisp maids uniform. She turned on the tap for you, handed you a small bar of soap and a hand towel when you were finished. The experience wasn’t over. She also offered small talk, mints, perfume, all at no charge. I vote we go back to those old days.
If any of you have watched me stick my hands under the faucet, waiting for the water to start automatically, try not to snicker at me. The best time to catch me looking like I have totally lost my mind is as I look in the mirror at the Matfield Green ladies room on the Kansas Turnpike. I don’t care how many times I frequent this facility, I always look behind me to see who is looking in my mirror. Then I laugh as I realize that this mystery woman is in the facing parallel bank of sinks, looking at me through the staggered openings between all the mirrors. Conspiracy…right?
