What’s Going On in the Bathrooms?!

Messy boots and messy bottoms.

The probability is high that you’re fully aware of the goings on in the bathroom. Kiki's a plenty and then some. I’m not referring to the social hour though (sometimes it really is an hour). A previous column, Bathrooms and Baggies illustrates my thoughts on that aspect- especially as they relate to NYC and Berlin.

What I am talking about is- what the fuck is going on in the bathrooms when it comes to the business for which they were intended. The number one and two reasons aren’t typically considered glamorous or a fun time. So it makes sense that the end of their use is seldom discussed, no matter the disgust. And while you might escape a lavatory unscathed, out of sight doesn’t necessarily mean out of mind. In fact, that horror scene you witnessed just might be flashing in the rear of your mind as you rejoin blissed out friends twirling across the dancefloor.

Who hasn’t been privy to piss poor bathroom abominations?! The scenarios created by partygoers disregarding any common standards for sanitation. Perhaps a time, two- but more likely, you’ve had a gazillion encounters of the rank kind. So, I’m going to air out my, ummmm…thoughts on the matter. I’m really, really not trying to cause a stink. But just because it’s always been ridiculous, doesn’t mean it has to be. You know the saying don’t shit where you eat? Well…how about let’s not shitty up the areas we share.

The stories (and memories) are absurd- but one in particular takes the cake. People out there are actually flushing their dirty draws down the toilet. Do folks think that it’s an escape hatch for their embarrassment? Also, how are they so certain they’ll actually go down the drain? Leaving floating nasty underwear for whomever is next in line is a pretty dicey chance. And let’s say your underwear does flush down all the way, and you skittishly and sheepishly exit the bathroom stall thinking all is unscathed and unnoticed. But oh no, no, no- even when it does flush, that case isn’t closed. You’re just clogging up the pipes which can and does shut down a club or party’s plumbing. And not for a brief moment that a plunger can handle either. An accident of that nature means it’s time to go home.

For those who are squeamish, trigger warning on the next paragraph:

And then there’s not the one, but two times I spotted a pile of shit on the bathroom floor. And no, I don’t mean garbage, I’m referring to actual poop. And these wretched occasions took place at the very same venue- months if not years apart. Why, you ask?! Well, I’m still asking myself the very same thing. And there’s no why in the world to explain that.

To all the squatters out there. And by that I mean sitting on seats, not squatters rights for your marathon kiki sessions in the stall. Soggy bottoms aren’t the look- or feel. And no matter your stance when you relieve yourself, leave the seat dry upon your departure. Whether by wipe or better aim, it’s your call. And for anyone who wouldn’t mind getting a quick quad workout in, lifting up the toilet seat and hovering does that very trick.

What comes next is as delicate as I can muster. It doesn’t take much to do a courtesy flush.

It doesn’t start and end at the stall y’all. What about the sinks?! Why oh why do people leave glasses, cans, bottles and garbage in and around the sink? The place where you wash your hands?! While you relieve yourself of some things in bathroom, carry anything you brought in with you back out

Sometimes it doesn’t even matter if the wretched mess is caused by something you did or didn’t do. So whether you caused the chaos or not, it could reflect on you upon exiting. I have some friends who are simply angels and tidy up. My OCD doesn’t let that happen. But bravo and a massive thank you to those who pitch in. At the very least if you see a scene that’s foul- don’t play, flag it to someone who works there. Because they’re busy and just might not be aware. It could be something as simple as “the soap is out,” because I don’t think anyone wants e.coli or pinkeye.

No shocker here, bathrooms don’t magically clean themselves y’all. Hard working people have to deal with whatever it is that you’ve left behind. And being cognizant and courteous doesn’t really take that much effort. So whether you’re squeamish, pig pen-ish or somewhere in between; you do you- but know that someone has to deal with your doo-doo.