Blog by Lee Ann Ropes

First of all - a Disclaimer. This is NOT a blog to be read before or during mealtime.

I ask you - How many names can one room possibly have? It's called the toilet, the water closet, the outhouse, the bathroom, the restroom, the head, the loo, the library and sometimes by those of us a little rough around the edges - the crapper. I only know 3 words in Spanish and one of them happens to be Bano. I've found out the hard way that you should know how to say  'bathroom' in every language if you're going to drink beer.

When out in public I never know which is politcially correct. Do you ask for the location of the bathroom or the restroom? It would be easy to discern if I planned on taking a bath or a rest, but usually this is not my intent.

If you're like me, you'd rather address the porcelain throne in your own home, but we all know that this is not always possible. When you gotta, you gotta. For times when I predict my stay will be longer than a 'drive-thru', I always seek out the multi-stall locations. Nothing causes more anxiety than knowing the meter is running and other users are lining up outside the door waiting for the single stall that you are occupying. Barnes and Noble Bookstores and Starbucks are one-stall locations to be avoided for extended stays.

And there's the issue of accomodations. I've found it's best to look for a supply of TP before assuming the position. (In the airline we used 'the position' to prepare for emergency landings. We called it, Grab Ankles!)Nothing worse than embarking on the procedure and finding the bathroom lacking supplies because the attendant apparently went home early with dysentary and no one is picking up the slack of bathroom duty.

When there is a delay in completion of the job, I listen and look under intently to see if other occupants remain. I prefer the listening part - breathing sounds and the rustle of TP, rather than the visual because I have a problem with other people's feet. Toenails really gross me out, especially the dirty and untamed ones. I have to make myself look away when I spot them, like when you pass roadkill and are drawn, against your will and better judgement, to staring and moaning. If you wait long enough, the stall turnover will allow you to exit without anyone knowing you've been in there long enough to request a forwarding address for your mail.

Do you sit or stand? And where do you put your purse if some male was responsible for the stall design and forgot to put in a hook? Thoughts of what is and what has been on the floor can be nauseating.
And, do you exit leaving the appliance in the condition you found it? Dry, wet or fully stocked?

And lastly, a really personal question. Do you always wash your hands afterwards or only when someone else might see you bolt, sans humming the Happy Birthday song twice as you soap up? Just wondering...sometimes it's tempting because the faucets and sink look dirtier than any germ you might have picked up behind the stall door.

And lastly, do you continue conversations once you and the toilet have become one, or answer cell phone calls over the sound of the new turbo-charged hand dryers that have caused me to exit so fast I forget to check the bottom of my shoes for the "you're dragging toilet paper on your shoe' look?

Whatever you call it, it's always an adventure in there. I'm sure we'll not meet someday sitting side by side, only separated by a graffited wall and a toilet paper holder that needs written instructions for its operation. I have only two requests. Please don't judge me if I stay too long and please wear closed-toed shoes. ;-)

between the lines (at the ladie's room),
Thanks for reading!