Bathrooms have been in the news for a while, but it’s more likely that folks are worried about who’s using which one than about what they’re doing once they’re in there. Even if we can’t leave the culture war at the door, perhaps there’s something we can all agree on: everyone alive knows the nearly-religious fervor of the sudden need to Be There Now. People have some of their most honest bodily moments in the can. So if you’re heading to the loo, here’s some reading material to take with you. (You might want to disinfect your phone afterwards.)
Bathrooms have been in the news for a while, but it’s more likely that folks are worried about who’s using which one than about what they’re doing once they’re in there. Even if we can’t leave the culture war at the door, perhaps there’s something we can all agree on: everyone alive knows the nearly-religious fervor of the sudden need to Be There Now. People have some of their most honest bodily moments in the can. So if you’re heading to the loo, here’s some reading material to take with you. (You might want to disinfect your phone afterwards.)
As I’m sure every woman knows, it’s a good idea to check the TP level before you do your business. You don’t want to be caught with your pants down… and nothing to wipe with. That was the case recently at the Temple of Heaven in Beijing, China, a somewhat ironic place to have a theft problem. It turns out that elderly Chinese visitors were (ahem!) liberating the People’s Paper. In typically intrusive fashion, the solution was facial recognition cameras. Locals and tourists heading to the loo must now wait a mo’ for the computer to OK their download limit of 60cm of paper in any 9-minute period. (That’s just shy of two feet, for American readers.) Perhaps the Temple should switch to bidets?
On to the “butt gasket.” Some well-appointed bathrooms provide those round wisps of see-through tissue that, to the popular mind, protect our tender arses from threats as diverse as errant pee-drops, cooties, and squirrels. The only problem? They don’t really protect us from anything. Unbroken skin is a pretty good barrier against germs. The paper is porous, like a giant screen for bacteria to ease right through. And if that toilet is flushed multiple times daily, the wet spray it generates (think of it as a “fecal plume”) already covers everything anyway – the seat cover dispenser, the cover you plan to deploy, exposed rolls of toilet paper – everything. Thin tissue seat covers may be psychologically soothing if you’re the sort of person who lives in fear, but only if you ignore the germs that are already colonizing it. (And for heaven’s sake, please do flush!)
After you’re finished, you probably already know to wash your hands, even if nobody else is watching. No, running the water for a few seconds or swishing around in it without soap doesn’t count. As everyone’s universal Mom would remind you, heading to the loo is a good time to get rid of all the nasties you’ve accumulated not just in the john, but which you’ve picked up since the last washing. You’d want your food service workers to do it, so don’t be a libertarian handwasher.
Finally, did you know there’s a better, less wasteful way to dry your hands? It’s true! You really don’t need to kill a forest by grabbing 2-5 paper towels and lightly moistening a fraction of each one on the way to the trash. If you shake (or wring) most of the water off, then fold the towel in half to trap more moisture, one will do just fine. Let Joe Smith show you how…
How to use one paper towel, a TED Talk by Joe Smith at TEDxConcordiaUPortland
A trip to the rest room is more than just a relief. It can be an expression of some of our deepest cultural neuroses. One thing is for sure, though: whether we’re male or female, employee or customer, or none of the above, we all have to do it multiple times a day. So whether you’re heading to the loo to do business, or to do your business, let’s be better citizens while we’re there, for ourselves and for each other.
Related: On Poop and Politics
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