Public Restroom Woes Part II

It has been brought to my attention that I have left out some critical subjects that really needed addressing in my last installment. I also realized that there was some very serious material that needed to be brought to the public attention. If you missed part 1, don't fret, you can catch up by simply clicking . . . here! I've got your back.

The Rocket Poo- The big burly brother to the rocket pee. My sister mentioned that this needed to be included, and frankly I agree. How could I have left out the rocket poo? I am deeply ashamed. Perhaps I need to clarify for those that can't use your imagination; The rocket poo is where an individual (I'm not going to name names, although heaven knows I could) possibly has deeper gastro intestinal issues because there is more air than poo, and it is so loud there is question as to whether or not this person is taking a deep breath and pushing it out, and I'm fairly positive they are hovering a foot over the bowl by the effect of the blast.

The rocket poo is without a doubt a higher offense to the victim. "Victim" being defined as the person in the stall right next to the rocket pooer. Scratch that, "victim" could also be defined as anyone within ear shot.

The No Flushers- Heaven help us all when they get to the bathroom before you do. I didn't realize how difficult it was to push down the little handle. Perhaps I am jumping to conclusions, and there are mitigating circumstances I am not aware of. For example, maybe they don't have any hands. Or feet for that matter. Granted, I don't know a soul that enjoys putting their hand on a flushy handle knowing there is some weirdo out there that possibly flushed it previously with their hand caked in poo, but as careful as you are to avoid full contact with the handle, you'll always have the option to wash your hands one minute from the time you flush. The entire continent begs you to take that option regardless.

Then there are the souls that walk into a stall and see that the person before them had not flushed, and then they turn right around and hunt for a better, more adequately flushed stall. I like to think of myself as the brave one. If I don't flush that toilet, then that toilet could forever go unflushed. It's a simple matter to just go ahead and flush that bad boy, and consider yourself the better person for finishing what someone else started. I draw the line at nasty diarreah though, I walk into a stall with that and I can't get out fast enough.

To the souls that PEE ON THE SEAT: There are no words to describe my distaste for your kind. Needless to say, I will conjure a few for arguments sake. Once upon a time I was just a little girl and to be honest, I'm not sure how I learned this life lesson, whether my mom taught it to me or rather it was simply common sense from a very young age, but I learned long ago that peeing on the seat was not one way to count yourself as a successful member of society. I would go as far as to say if you manage to pee on the seat you've just matched the aim of both a three year old and a very very over-the-legal-limit drunk. Congratulations. You are also probably the reason people started to get the idea that you could contract AIDs from a toilet seat.

To the talkers: The cousins to the people on cell phones. I like to fancy myself sociable at work. There is a vast group of people that I could carry on a conversation with. However, there are times I consider "Bre times" and the bathroom is one of them. To those that have the urge to talk to me, know that I care about our friendship enough to say "Leave me alone!". Those that enjoy a good convo are generally of an older generation, so maybe it's something that was programmed into them subtly at school. Like brainwashing. Regardless of the method, or the age please know that there is a time and place, and "right now" is neither. There are even a couple people that I only run into in the bathroom. That being the case, perhaps we don't know each other well enough to talk through stalls. I even have my secret bathroom, this fabled place is in another building entirely, I have to walk through the freezing cold/blistering heat to get there, depending on the season. They still find me there. I don't know how they do it, but they are good.

There is a very real possibility that people may perceive me as mean to say such things, but those that I'm talking about will never read this (although I did have people admit to multiple offenses on the last list). Others may think that I'm a little weird to be addressing topics in this manner, but really, if I have gotten through to one seat-pee-er then my job here is done.