| All
my life I have been a magnet for bathrooms. It all started
when I badgered my kid brother as my mom was changing him
and he peed in my face. Ever since, bathrooms have stayed
close. My freshman year of college, I chanced upon the only
dorm room in my hall directly across from the bathroom. I
went to sleep with the sounds of flushing toilets and showers
in my ears. And now, at my boring office job, I’ve scored
the desk closest to the bathroom. This can have its advantages:
I don’t have to get up and try the door because I always
know when someone’s in there, I don’t have to
stand outside and wait but can, instead, look busy at my desk
in the interim, and I get to give everyone that takes an extra
long time (we all know what that means) the evil eye on their
way out.
As a result of my close relationship with bathrooms, I’ve
come to discover a few things about myself that I hope I can
extrapolate onto humankind in general. Most of these observations
and beliefs are of the "everybody poops" motif--but
in addition to pooping, everybody judges. I can’t always
save the #2 for home as I don’t want to be sweating
and uncomfortable at work any more than I already am. But,
for unknown reasons, I feel utter disdain for others when
I see them come out of the bathroom after such a deed. And
you know when that is, usually. There is a guilty walk and
refusal to make eye contact that I see in recent poopers.
They don’t even want to talk to anyone until they’ve
had a chance to get away from the scene of the crime and begin
to forget that they did the dirty deed. And well they should
because all I think is, “you are disgusting. Maybe if
you stopped eating so much Indian/Italian/Mexican/greasy fast
food (take your pick) or so much food in general (you know
who you are) or taking those ridiculously long lunches and
eating the food your employees who make so much less than
you bring in for their fellow employees’ enjoyment (my
boss) you wouldn’t have to shit in the workplace.
There are the awkward moments when waiting for the toilet,
or coming out to discover another waiting. While the waiter
is praying that the person they are waiting on is not stinking
up the bathroom, the person currently stinking up the bathroom
is praying that no one is outside waiting. Because there’s
nothing worse than having someone know for damn sure that
it was you who did it. And there’s little denying it
when exiting a private bathroom. You could try to pretend
it was the person who went in before you, but why--the waiter
will wonder, did you not wait for the smell to clear out before
using. And if you are the waiter, how to get out of using
the bathroom after a stinker without embarrassing the person
who caused it? I’m sure there are subtle rules of etiquette,
which I, sadly enough, am not equipped to provide. All I can
say is that I love when I come out of the bathroom after a
non-poop and someone is waiting. I smile, cheerfully say their
name and catch their eyes, nonverbally letting them know that
I’m one of the carefree non-poopers and I sure as hell
hope they’re not going to go in now and soil the bathroom
I’ve kept so nice and odor-free for everyone.
When someone’s been in the bathroom for a period of
time, I don’t always assume they are taking a shit.
There are some people I’m just never sure about. They
are the people that seem above pooping or, in my saner moments,
at least above pooping in the workplace restroom. They are
too smart, too attractive, too stylish, and have too good
of a personality to commit such an act. So, I wonder, what
could they be doing? Were they talking on their phone? Because
if they were on the phone, avoiding even mere moments at work,
I love and admire them for giving their crap office job the
finger and saying, hey, I have a whole other and better life
that needs my attention right now, and my assumed work duties
will just have to hold. Or maybe they’re putting on
makeup, though why anyone would bother at a mostly-women-with-a-few-unattractive-men-sprinkled-in-for-good-measure
office, I don’t know. I feel quite comfortable coming
into the office after not showering for a few days (no, I
don’t make a habit of it, but it happens to the best
of us sometimes) and I probably wouldn’t even mind if
I forgot to wear a bra or put on deodorant.
But I must get back to why the judgment of other people and
their poop? We all do it so why does it gross us out so much
at the prospect of another doing the same? It all goes back
to the romantic illusion, the judgmental-towards-self idea
that others are better than us. They don’t get gassy
while drinking beer or eating Mexican and they don’t
take big smelly dumps. We do, but we all know that we ourselves
are fallible--but not that nice, pretty girl at the cubicle
in the corner. Why, when she’s in the john she’s
clearly just powdering her nose to look even more presentable.
Which brings me to my final question: what does that say about
my opinion of a person that, every time they come out of the
bathroom, I assume they’ve just taken a big shit? |
