Monday, July 24, 2006
Shooting vs. Non-Shooting Restrooms
What is it with the people who design public restrooms. Were they born stupid, or did they have to go to college and learn stupid?
Last week, I came across a restroom with only one of those ridiculous wall-mounted blow dryers. What kind of idiot came up with that idea? God forbid anyone would want to wash his face in one of those joints. He'd have to get down on his knees, and that's just asking for trouble in a men's room.
Then there's the design that has the sink in one spot, the soap dispenser in another, and the paper towels in yet another. You wet your hands under the tap, then amble on over to get some soap, leaving a water trail all along the way, then back to the sink, dripping yet more water, soap up, rinse, then hike to the paper towel dispenser through all of the water left on the floor by your predecessors, trying valiantly to not slip and fall.
I know, I know. Reverse the process, Crime Dog. Get your paper towel first, then put a little soap in your hand, then go to the sink, wash, rinse, and you have your paper towel right there with you. Of course, you'll be clenching said towel in your teeth, because there's a shitload of water and God-only-knows what bacteria splattered all over the counter tops. Here's hoping that the guy who filled the towel dispenser had taken time to wash his own hands after wiping his ass.
I just love those faucets where you mash the knob, and the water turns on just long enough for you to almost get your hand under it before the damn thing shuts off. So, you end up washing one hand at a time, while mashing down the knob with the other. It takes about six pushes per hand to get the soap off, so don't bother getting in any hurry. And don't get me started on those automatic sinks that are supposed to dispense water when you put your hands underneath the faucet. I end up moving from sink to sink, trying to find one that actually works.
And what's up with those towel dispensers? Now, I try not to touch a damn thing in a men's room that's not personally attached to me. I flush the sit downers with my foot, and the urinals with my elbow. Now, I've washed my hands and I need a paper towel. Of course, they have one of those dispensers with the little lever. I push the lever, again with my elbow or perhaps forearm in a crunch, and what happens? I get a strip of towel that is completely useless, because it's only about 2" wide. I hit the lever again and again - I'm usually a five-push kinda guy - until I get enough to dry my hands. You'd think some Einstein would invent a dispenser that gives you enough towel with one push, but that makes too much sense.
So, I've managed to wash, soap, rinse and dry my hands. Now I have to find a way to get out of the men's room without fucking up the whole process. Three guys left ahead of me, and not one even so much as glanced at the sinks. No way I'm touching that damned door handle unprotected. If I'm in a blow dryer men's room, it's time to untuck and use the ol' shirt tail to grab the handle. Of course, then I look like a pervert, ramming my hands down my pants in public, in an effort to get the shirt tail back in. Preferably, I will have the paper towels I just used to dry my hands. I can use those to open the door.
That's when you find out if you are in a "shooting" or "non-shooting" men's room. In a "non-shooting" men's room, a waste basket is strategically placed near the door. You open the door with the towels, release the handle, drop the towels in the waste basket, then go right out the door. Simple.
Where it gets challenging is in the "shooting" restrooms. That's where the waste basket is way over on the other side, away from the door, or maybe just a hole in the counter top next to the sink. This requires some skill. You must open the door with the towel, release the door, do a turn-around jumper, make the shot, then turn again and make it out the door before it closes or hits you in the ass on the way out. Invariably, some big dude is going to walk in front of you at just the wrong moment, and you end up trying to explain to Lurch why you went up side of his head with a big wad of wet paper towels.
If you're a lousy shot, you have to use your towels to swing the door wide, then sprint to the waste basket, throw them in, and then sprint back before the door closes. That's when you slip and bust your ass on all the water that's been dripped on the floor by everybody going from the sinks to the paper towels.
Now, this dissertation has been primarily for men. I haven't been in enough ladies' rooms to know if the same assholes who designed ours screwed your up as well. But one thing's for sure: You're always better off just holding it till you get home.
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Last week, I came across a restroom with only one of those ridiculous wall-mounted blow dryers. What kind of idiot came up with that idea? God forbid anyone would want to wash his face in one of those joints. He'd have to get down on his knees, and that's just asking for trouble in a men's room.
Then there's the design that has the sink in one spot, the soap dispenser in another, and the paper towels in yet another. You wet your hands under the tap, then amble on over to get some soap, leaving a water trail all along the way, then back to the sink, dripping yet more water, soap up, rinse, then hike to the paper towel dispenser through all of the water left on the floor by your predecessors, trying valiantly to not slip and fall.
I know, I know. Reverse the process, Crime Dog. Get your paper towel first, then put a little soap in your hand, then go to the sink, wash, rinse, and you have your paper towel right there with you. Of course, you'll be clenching said towel in your teeth, because there's a shitload of water and God-only-knows what bacteria splattered all over the counter tops. Here's hoping that the guy who filled the towel dispenser had taken time to wash his own hands after wiping his ass.
I just love those faucets where you mash the knob, and the water turns on just long enough for you to almost get your hand under it before the damn thing shuts off. So, you end up washing one hand at a time, while mashing down the knob with the other. It takes about six pushes per hand to get the soap off, so don't bother getting in any hurry. And don't get me started on those automatic sinks that are supposed to dispense water when you put your hands underneath the faucet. I end up moving from sink to sink, trying to find one that actually works.
And what's up with those towel dispensers? Now, I try not to touch a damn thing in a men's room that's not personally attached to me. I flush the sit downers with my foot, and the urinals with my elbow. Now, I've washed my hands and I need a paper towel. Of course, they have one of those dispensers with the little lever. I push the lever, again with my elbow or perhaps forearm in a crunch, and what happens? I get a strip of towel that is completely useless, because it's only about 2" wide. I hit the lever again and again - I'm usually a five-push kinda guy - until I get enough to dry my hands. You'd think some Einstein would invent a dispenser that gives you enough towel with one push, but that makes too much sense.
So, I've managed to wash, soap, rinse and dry my hands. Now I have to find a way to get out of the men's room without fucking up the whole process. Three guys left ahead of me, and not one even so much as glanced at the sinks. No way I'm touching that damned door handle unprotected. If I'm in a blow dryer men's room, it's time to untuck and use the ol' shirt tail to grab the handle. Of course, then I look like a pervert, ramming my hands down my pants in public, in an effort to get the shirt tail back in. Preferably, I will have the paper towels I just used to dry my hands. I can use those to open the door.
That's when you find out if you are in a "shooting" or "non-shooting" men's room. In a "non-shooting" men's room, a waste basket is strategically placed near the door. You open the door with the towels, release the handle, drop the towels in the waste basket, then go right out the door. Simple.
Where it gets challenging is in the "shooting" restrooms. That's where the waste basket is way over on the other side, away from the door, or maybe just a hole in the counter top next to the sink. This requires some skill. You must open the door with the towel, release the door, do a turn-around jumper, make the shot, then turn again and make it out the door before it closes or hits you in the ass on the way out. Invariably, some big dude is going to walk in front of you at just the wrong moment, and you end up trying to explain to Lurch why you went up side of his head with a big wad of wet paper towels.
If you're a lousy shot, you have to use your towels to swing the door wide, then sprint to the waste basket, throw them in, and then sprint back before the door closes. That's when you slip and bust your ass on all the water that's been dripped on the floor by everybody going from the sinks to the paper towels.
Now, this dissertation has been primarily for men. I haven't been in enough ladies' rooms to know if the same assholes who designed ours screwed your up as well. But one thing's for sure: You're always better off just holding it till you get home.
