Sunday, May 11, 2014

Ou sont les toilettes?

Today we're going to have a little toilet talk. Not "Potty", not John(poor John) and certainly Not the can. One of the things that keeps this little blog over here going(pun intended) is a certain number of awkward things that keep us connected as humans. Situations, or things that we All have encountered, that are so awkward, but guaranteed Someone else you know has gone though. So before we go forward, you may not know 2 very important things about me:
1.I have a fear of public toilets, or any toilet other than my own( but I'm actually quite fearful of mine too!)
2. I am scared of the dark- different blog post entirely.
 
Having  fear of public toilets, and having a lifelong relationship with stomach disorders really do not go hand- in- hand. For years, after I had a "big girl job" I was afraid to use the community bathroom at work, and damn near threw myself into full blown kidney failure. It was at that time I started to plan my routes and mark the "Safe" zones that I could use. I had to get over the fact that I couldn't Hold It during a 9 hour work day. If your a business owner, and you have a public restroom and you don't have someone go check the cleanliness of your washroom, you deserve an Upper Decker. (look it up) And don't Even get me started if there's no purse hook!! Because then it's me and my thighs, balancing Louis, getting a great workout.
 
I recently had a discussion with someone about what was cleaner, the bottoms of some ones feet, or their bare cheeks? I would rather walk barefoot over the same plot of land after someone than use the bathroom after some ones been in it. There's the total unknown of what's gone down in there prior to your entry. It's always slightly humid, and perhaps because I'm holding my breath, a bit stagnant. I now I'm not alone in this feeling. And old boss friend of mine, chooses to walk clear across his company headquarters to do his business. In the other more heavily trafficked facilities, there's only 2 stalls. So he chooses to avoid the entire awkward :Pass the Sports section when your done with it exchange.
 
For years I worked for a store that was centrally located between an Old Country Buffet restaurant, and a Starbucks. Every Sunday, they would mill in, to use the restroom and unload after their Buffet brunch, which was followed up by a steaming cup of Joe, or a triple venti iced capp. extra whip, heavy syrup concoction. I swear that store spent more in ordering toilet paper, than they did on resister tape. And why? WHY? is it Always me, in front of the person with the desperate look on their face, holding their belly, asking: Do you have a bathroom?..Like could you possibly be more discreet about the crime your about to commit? Like today for instance, 10 minutes before we shut our doors, a man runs in, with a bit of a language barrier, asking: Do you have a toilet.. or Something?" Or Something? Like what else? A paper cup? A cardboard box? I'm still shaking my head.
 
I know this feeling, or this fear I never truly going to go away. Even sharing the bathroom with someone for the first time in 10 years with P has been quite the transition.  Thankfully, we have never fallen ill at the same time, or if your a blog regular(pun again) know that we're Never EVER in there at the same time. Using that room should be like the perfect bank robbery
: Get in, take what you need, leave behind what you don't , make a fast get away, and never EVER leave evidence behind. Because you Never want to have to ask:
Ou sont les toilettes?

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