I used to LOVE Ally McBeal when I was in high school. While my inability to follow TV shows with any regularity has of late been attributed to my recent two year stint sans cable I was equally as apathetic in high school. I did however have an affinity for Ally. Perhaps it was her tendency to dance inappropriately to the songs in her head. I do that too. More likely it was a latent crush on Robert Downy Junior. Drug addiction, schmug addiction, that man's rendition of Joni Mitchell's "River" STILL makes my knees a-tremble. It may have even been the idea of a unisex bathroom, as an adolescent chica this intrigued me.
I have never considered myself to be prudish. Maybe I am biased in this assumption but I do have a number of irrefutable facts on my side. Fact number one on my side is the fact that even at the ripe old age of 26 I am still unendingly amused by fart and poop jokes. (Reading about "The 10 and 2" is up against that pecan-less tart that Leslie just tempted me with as the high point of my week.) Fact number two is that I persist in referring to said jokes as "poop jokes" not "shit jokes." Poop sounds funnier than shit. Numero tres: I think whoopie cushions are an entirely valid form of comedy. Fact number 4:I love me some Kevin Smith and applaud his ability to write a best selling autobiography that is 90% a synopsis of his bowel movements. My point you ask? I don't think that I'm prudish BUT I do have limitations. While I find it A-mazing that my sister and her husband seem to function on the premise "the family who farts together stays together," I am not that girl. I am not that girl nor can I bring myself to number 1, much less number 2 with the bathroom door open. Some things in life should remain sacred and unless I'm in the hospital having my I's and O's tracked, sacred shall these things remain.
Still, the fact that bathrooms are stratified by gender seems to me an odd concept, while not seeming odd at all. Are there any reasons beyond members of the male persuasion generally making bigger and (usually) smellier poops than women and their overall lack of aim when peeing, that we cannot pee and poop in cross-gendered harmony?
I ask these questions because of a situation that arose at work today. The person who cleans the bathrooms in my office is a young Hispanic man, who I will call Pete. Every afternoon he hangs a sign on the door to the women's bathroom saying "Closed for Cleaning." I always assumed that this was for his own convenience because really, who wants to clean two feet from where someone else is pooping? No I and I assumed not he. So, having finished off my second liter of water this morning I went to the bathroom and upon exiting my stall found myself face to face with Pete. Apparently I had slipped in unnoticed while he was waiting for the bathroom to vacate so that he could clean it. The sheer HORROR on Pete's face when he saw me was astounding, I even tried my most charming smile to alleviate the panic that was spreading across his face but it didn't seem to make a difference. We, two members of the opposite sex had been in the same vicinity while I was peeing!!! I gave a quick check to make sure that I had in fact pulled my pants back up, I didn't have gobs of boogeys hanging from my nose and that I hadn't grown fangs in the past 10 seconds. Nada. The only option remaining was to say "lo ciento," lavarme las manos and get out. This seems to alleviate his concerns, but geeze, am I missing something?
Still, the fact that bathrooms are stratified by gender seems to me an odd concept, while not seeming odd at all. Are there any reasons beyond members of the male persuasion generally making bigger and (usually) smellier poops than women and their overall lack of aim when peeing, that we cannot pee and poop in cross-gendered harmony?
I ask these questions because of a situation that arose at work today. The person who cleans the bathrooms in my office is a young Hispanic man, who I will call Pete. Every afternoon he hangs a sign on the door to the women's bathroom saying "Closed for Cleaning." I always assumed that this was for his own convenience because really, who wants to clean two feet from where someone else is pooping? No I and I assumed not he. So, having finished off my second liter of water this morning I went to the bathroom and upon exiting my stall found myself face to face with Pete. Apparently I had slipped in unnoticed while he was waiting for the bathroom to vacate so that he could clean it. The sheer HORROR on Pete's face when he saw me was astounding, I even tried my most charming smile to alleviate the panic that was spreading across his face but it didn't seem to make a difference. We, two members of the opposite sex had been in the same vicinity while I was peeing!!! I gave a quick check to make sure that I had in fact pulled my pants back up, I didn't have gobs of boogeys hanging from my nose and that I hadn't grown fangs in the past 10 seconds. Nada. The only option remaining was to say "lo ciento," lavarme las manos and get out. This seems to alleviate his concerns, but geeze, am I missing something?
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