The Untouchables
29 Oct 2009 2 Comments
in Rants Tags: bathroom, decorative, everyday, fancy, hand towels, materialism, nice, soap, towels
We’ve all seen them… covered in lace, embroidered with monograms, emblazoned with cutesy appliques, folded over rods, draped through loops and perched on the edges of sinks. They are… the decorative hand towel. And the only thing worse than the decorative towel you know you’re not supposed to touch… is the decorative soap sitting idly next to it. How dare you get it wet and begin to smooth out its carefully carved and molded edges! Just imagine what would happen if just anyone used that soap. Why that seashell would just be a sad little triangle, and those initials, well who would be able to read those anymore? It’s just barbarism!
Nothing seems more pointless to me than soaps and towels you’re not supposed to use being on display in a bathroom. First of all, I can only assume the people who own these items are trying to impress the guests in their bathroom. And surely nothing impresses more than wet unsoaped hands you have to wipe off on your own jeans. Not only is this impractical but, wasteful. I for one can honestly say that there isn’t a single item in my house that I have not, do not currently or will not in the future actually use. And just to clarify display/decoration is a use for a painting… not a hand towel. I am willing to bet the same people who get upset when people use their decorative hand towels also own candles that they have never and will never light, and vases that have never held flowers and never will, and that at least one piece of furniture somewhere in their house still have some sort of protective coating of some kind on it. And that’s what really bothers me. Not the towels and the soaps but people need to impress and build a facade. It’s a bathroom, not a museum.
In today’s materialistic world people talk about the need to have everything, but some people seem to have a need for two of everything. Their “nice” set and their everyday set. The only version of this phenomenon which exists in my house is that I have everyday dishes and I have fine china. But to be fair, the china does actually get used occasionally. It’s like buying a new wardrobe and still only ever wearing your old clothes because you’re afraid the new ones with get dirty. Or buying a brand new computer and using your old own because you don’t want the fancy one to get a virus. At the end of the day things get dirty, and scratched, and bend and broken. But guess what, that’s why we clean things, and we glue things back together, and we pick things up and dust them off and move on with life. And that’s why my guest bathrooms each contain two solid colored hand towels, and metal liquid soap pumps. It’s not the Ritz but guess what… no one is wiping their hand on their pants.
Hairy Situation
10 Sep 2009 2 Comments
in Ponderings, Rants Tags: bathroom, Brazilian, gross, pubic hair, shaving, toilet
Today upon entering the bathroom at work (yup… we’re back in the bathroom people) I discovered something gross on my seat which I see all too often. A lone curly hair approximately 3/4 of an inch long. Which got me to pondering, because (and I don’t think I’m alone in this) when I see a hair on a toilet seat the only place my brain is able to go is “EEEWWW!!! A PUBE!” Is this me having me head in the gutter? Or is this the typical response? I’m sorry but if it’s short, dark and curly and in an area you would have taken off your pants… it’s all I can think of. If that means my head is in the gutter then so be it.
Which got me to thinking about the fact that it’s 2009… and even if you’re not waxed down to a Brazilian… I would hope in this day and age that women are at least landscaping to a certain extent, perhaps shaving, at least a trim. I thought they were. Like the hair I saw this morning… why was it almost an inch long? Are they going to braid it this weekend? I really don’t need or want to know what’s going on with you and your vagooter! For heaven’s sake, if your free loving au-natural ass takes the beaver out of its cage, please have the courtesy to check that it hasn’t shed on the seating… PLEASE. You can do it while you’re wiping off the piss you sprinkled on there while hovering.
I don’t need anymore flash backs to the terrible videos they showed us in Human Sexuality class that were all made in the 70′s when everyone was apparently much hairier and they had not yet seen the technological advances of the razor or wax.
How May I Direct Your Call?
04 Aug 2009 Leave a Comment
in Rants Tags: bathroom, phone, toilet
Ok, so before we leave the bathroom I was reminded today at work of another increasing bathroom phenomenon: “shit talkers” I will call them… people who talk on the phone while in the bathroom. Why? Why on Earth is this a necessity? I will myself admit that I’ll write a text message or even check twitter on my phone when I go to the bathroom. However, those are one way forms of communication, in other words… you can’t tell I’m in the bathroom.
I think it’s a bit… gross, not to mention a bit rude to call someone up on the phone and have a nice chat while on the pot. I mean I’ve always hated the fact that people in the next stall can hear me pee… why on Earth do I want someone in the next county over to hear me too? And even if you’re quietly tinkling in your stall, think about all the things going on around you that that person can hear. The person in the stall next to you unfurling a football field’s length of toilet paper, The industrial strength jet stream of flushing water to your other side, the creak of the foam soap dispenser, the weird electronic buzz of the automatic paper towel dispenser. All of it amplified and echoed twice around you by the ceramic tiled floor and the giant mirrored wall.
The ultimate question is what was so important it couldn’t wait until after you’ve done your business? Is your house burning down? Is someone dying? WELL THEN PULL UP YOUR PANTS AND GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!!! And if not… a simple “I’m going to have to call you back” would suffice. Or perhaps letting the call go to voice mail. And if you’re the dialer… what was so important you had to call and find out that couldn’t wait 3 minutes? Did someone discover the secret to life and I missed out on the answer because I didn’t pick up my phone on the John?
There is one exception I will make to the “Don’t Pee While on the Phone” rule… I have a mother. And God knows the woman likes to talk. Every week I talk to her and conversations run anywhere from 45-90 minutes. I’m not going to lie, after a few drinks and over and hour of chatting… I have broken down and peed while talking to Mom.
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