Poop Talk….

To quote Quilted Northern….the trailblazing toilet philosopher of the age….Ladies, “it’s time to get real about what happens in the bathroom.”

Since the advent of indoor plumbing, it seems to have become an accepted fact that men’s public restroom’s are a cesspool of filth….with sticky floors and ample amounts of urine caked and dripping from every porcelain fixture.

Yet, for the most part, the women’s room has managed to eschew this reputation….undeservedly so.

While I’ve heard it said that Death is the great equalizer, I think the Grim Reaper has some competition in public restrooms.  When it comes right down to it….women can be just as gross as men….we just have more stalls and so we’re better at hiding it.

Over the years, I’ve become somewhat of a student of workplace bathroom poetry….along with tips and etiquette lessons posted for edification while using the facilities….all of which seem to be imploring us women to live up to the myth that we are somehow more refined in our bowl pursuits than our male counterparts.  Lies….all lies….

1.  If You Sprinkle When You Tinkle, Be a Sweetie and Wipe the Seatie

Every woman has utilized the hover craft method at one time or another while trying to avoid cheek to seat contact with a public landing pad.  It’s a method that requires a bit of lower body strength, a decent core, balance and the ability to regulate flow in order to maintain proper control of ones aim….take away the necessary skill set and the result is essentially the same as shooting water onto a teaspoon.

Piss happens….there is no shame in it and no one has to know….unless of course the evidence is left splattered all over the toilet seat and surrounding areas.

I’m not exactly sure how one get’s to a place in life where she looks down at a toilet seat, glistening with her own urine and concludes it’s perfectly acceptable to just walk off and leave it there….maybe it’s some kind of deep, primal instinct to mark the territory that I just lack.

2.  Were You Nesting?

For those germ concious women who know their hovering limitations or simply enjoy a fully seated go on the pot….when toilet seat covers aren’t available, apparently an entire roll of toilet paper will do.


I’ll admit I’m not particularly well versed on all the apparently horrendous dangers a public toilet seat is harboring, but quite frankly….I prefer it that way.  I don’t have the time or the architectural skills necessary to craft this kind of set up….but for those who do, please note that the rest of us probably don’t have the time, or the bio-suit required to clean it up when you’re done.

You would think that a person so seemingly concerned about contracting the bubonic plague from a toilet seat, would consider proper clean up and sterilization of the area to be some degree of a priority, but no….often times it looks like she fled the area under some kind of attack.

3.  If At First You Don’t Succeed, Flush, Flush Again (Or Just Flush….Period).

No one is interested in what happened behind that stall door.  What you do there, what you drop there, flush it down there when you leave there.

4.  Everybody Poops

Unless you are actually giving birth….not just sounding like it….I have no interest in becoming involved in your moment.  I don’t want to know that Chipotle goes right through you, or that you must have had some bad fish the night before.  There is no need to apologize because your rear-end sounds like a kid playing a trumpet….because really….what do you expect to hear in return?  “Oh, haha, I know how that goes?”  Or, “No worries, just hang in there, you can do it.”

Everybody poops….but not everybody needs to be involved.

5.  Are You There Black Patent Leather Pumps?  It’s me, Nude Ballet Flats

As much as I don’t want to commiserate with anyone during bowel movements, I also don’t want to be doing any favors.  Personally, I always check the TP balance before committing to a stall.  I would rather do the wiggly shake and just hope for the best, than ask anyone to pass me a wad of toilet paper.

For one, how do I know where those hands grasping that tissue paper quality public TP have been?

For two, conversations in a public restroom that start out with, “Can you do me a favor?” could go so many ways and I’d hate to commit to something I’m not willing to follow through with.

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