The “Privacy” Paradox
Let’s be honest, and perhaps a bit graphic: public restrooms are a high-stakes environment. We’ve all been there, praying we don’t have to pull a Elaine Benes and beg, “Can you spare a square?” only to hear that cold, heartless, “No! I can’t spare a square. I don’t have a square to spare!” But beyond the paper shortage, I have a bone to pick with the architecture. What is the deal with the gaps?
Why do stall doors leave a vertical “peek-a-boo” slit on the side? And why do they hover a foot off the ground? How much money are we actually saving on that extra six inches of particle board? Is the “Stall Door Foundation” facing a global lumber shortage?
The Delicate Endeavor
Going to the bathroom in public is a military operation. If you’re smart, you plan your trek for a time when the coast is clear. You sit there, motionless, waiting for the “perimeter” to be empty before the paperwork even starts. It’s a delicate endeavor that deserves a full and complete enclosure. Is it too much to ask for a little structural integrity while I’m conducting business?
A Misnomer and a Mystery
Which brings me to my next annoyance: why is it called a restroom? I have never once gone in there to “rest.” In fact, it’s usually a bit of a struggle. If we aren’t napping, why can’t the walls go from floor to ceiling? I’m not looking for a luxury suite; I’m just looking for a room where I don’t have to make accidental eye contact with a stranger washing their hands while I’m at my most vulnerable.
The Bottom Line
When you finally emerge from your semi-exposed fortress, do us all a favor: look around and realize that nobody wants a “sloppy poppy” situation. For the love of all things holy, wash your hands.
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