Public Toilet Etiquette (Part Two)

I feel I need to reinforce a rule that I first mentioned in an old blog post about public toilet etiquette. You can read it here.

Yes, I’m sorry, dear reader, but I am once again going to discuss toilets, something foreigners think that British people are obsessed with. I know Americans refer to it as “The Bathroom” and Australians refer to “Dunnies” – but it is what it is – a bloody toilet!

So if you are vaguely offended by discussions about the less attractive necessities of the human body, please stop reading now.

For the rest of you …

In the post mentioned above, I briefly allude to a specific rule. Actually, no – let me be crystal clear about this – it is a specific LAW that, if broken, should result in a hefty fine and nasty slap on the wrist for the perpetrators.

All men know this law; it is written in our DNA.

All women ignore this law and are quite keen to disobey it. In fact, in the female world, it is encouraged to bound over the line of good taste and positively encourage this crime. Women even go to public toilets IN PAIRS to openly break the law and laugh in the faces of any men who dare to speak up against it.

The law is this.

Men must NEVER EVER EVER EVER talk to each other in public toilets. 

I’ve seen women walk into public toilets in pairs, arms linked, chatting away as if they haven’t seen each other for months, to actually talk to each other in adjacent cubicles while answering the call to nature. 

How do they get away with this?

The reason I am writing this post is because a man spoke to me in a public toilet, causing me momentarily to break ANOTHER law before I realised what I was doing.

He said to me (and I still can’t believe this):

“Hey, Dave – fancy meeting you here!”

The law that I broke, in utter shock I hasten to add, was this:

Men must NEVER EVER EVER EVER look at another man in public toilets. 

Male public toilets should be like a library!

I stared at the perpetrator of this heinous crime with a look of shock and disgust. And then I remembered the second law and looked straight at the wall in front of me. Such was the shockwave, that I suddenly lost the ability to pee, and in shame I zipped up and rushed out of the loo only remembering to wash my hands when I reached the door. Having been forced to break the second law, I certainly didn’t want to be chased down by the Health and Safety police for violating their first law of toilet etiquette.

Of course, a few minutes later, my body remembered that I hadn’t quite finished and I found myself going back into the toilet. Anybody who saw me re-enter the loo no more than five minutes after I had been before no doubt thought that I had a strange medical condition requiring me to urinate every five minutes. 

I have only just recovered, dear reader, and am so ashamed of myself that I need to use you as a therapist and let it all hang out, so to speak.

Anyway, now I’ve got this out in the open, I want to reiterate to any potential male public toilet criminals that UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES must you EVER EVER EVER talk to another man in a public toilet.

Of course, there may be circumstances where it is absolutely essential, for example if you have been injured or something like that.

In those rare emergency situations you are allowed to say things like:

“I have slipped and hurt my head. Please call the emergency services.”

In fact (and I swear I am not making this up), a poster appeared at work actively encouraging people to talk in the toilet “to be creative and share ideas”. It showed a man washing his hands and an unseen work colleague speaking from an adjacent trap (that’s what we call a “stall” or a “cubicle” – well at least that’s what I call them anyway!).

What on earth were they thinking?

I know there are a number of career public toilet criminals out there who will ignore this post and laugh like Dr Evil.

For the rest of us, you can spot them because they will break the rule in the following ways:

They will speak to you when it is not an emergency.

They will stare at you.

Some will even say terrible things like:

“We must stop meeting like this.”

“Is there any toilet paper in your trap?”

“Wow – that’s very impressive.”

“Do you want me to help you find it?”

“Don’t worry! I’ll turn on the taps when I’ve finished. That should help!”

“I’d give that five minutes if I were you.”

“Have you seen the new Beyoncé video?”

“Sorry about the splashback!”

“Our bodies are totally synchronised.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t flush!”

If you encounter such serial criminals, simply run away. Do not look at them but try to finish what you started; after all, there’s nothing worse than having a little accident because of a toilet talker.

Just remember to wash your hands.

Public Toilet Etiquette

WARNING: This post discusses toilets.

I could say something pretentious like:

Please don’t read any further if you are offended by toilets.

Or something puerile like:

EURRGGHH!! Toilets!! Plop plop plop!!! (snigger snigger snigger)

But I’m not going to. You see I personally believe that people do not discuss toilets enough. Every human being in the world goes to the toilet:

The Queen of England goes to the toilet.

Gordon Brown, the British Prime Minister, goes to the toilet.

President Barack Obama goes to the toilet.

I think you get my drift.

So why are people so unwilling to discuss them? And why are people even more unwilling to discuss toilet habits?

You see, I think that people are getting away with murder in toilets around the world, particularly public toilets. There is no etiquette for proper toilet behaviour, especially in public toilets. Most people do use them responsibly and certainly do consider others when they have finished. Others have no consideration at all and do not even bother to think about:

(1) People who are in the toilet with them (Note – when I say “in” the toilet with them, I don’t actually mean that there are two people standing in the toilet bowl together nor do I mean that people should go to their own toilet in their own house and invite groups of people to accompany them and share the experience. I am talking about public toilets here).

(2) People who may use the toilet after them (Yes – people DO actually use the SAME toilet as other people though not at the same time).

(3) People who have to clean the toilet.

I am here to attempt to educate you in public toilet etiquette based on my own experience.

FEMALE PUBLIC TOILETS

Okay – let me get one thing straight. I am not the kind of pervert who hangs around female toilets with a note pad trying to research a blog post on toilet etiquette.

Men should NEVER, EVER, EVER set foot inside a public toilet intended for members of the opposite sex.

This is a law that is built into the DNA of most men.

Even when the situation is desperate, all men should resist the temptation to even peer inside when they happen to walk past if the door is open.

You can read here about the kind of thing that happens.

Guys – just don’t go there.

I made that mistake once. A group of us were in a night club many years ago and one of our number, the only young lady, suddenly became rather ill. She had had far too much to drink and suddenly announced, in a slurred voice, that she felt sick. A kind hearted male member of our party supported her and led her to the LADIES. After about ten minutes, three of us started to become a little concerned because neither had returned. We found our male friend standing outside the toilet waiting.

“Where is she?” we asked.

“She hasn’t come out,” he replied.

Apparently he had asked a couple of women to check on her but, this being a night club and most of the patrons being a little drunk, he had no success. After a brief discussion we decided to walk into the LADIES en masse.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Most male public toilets are worse than seventh level of Hell (see later). This particular toilet was pristine with a pervading scent of roses. We gawped around like four lemons, completely forgetting our friend.

A couple of women came in and started moaning.

“We’re here to check on our friend,” said one guy. Another, walked up to the each cubicle, tapping on each door, saying:

“Are you in there? Are you OK?”

Within minutes, female security staff descended on the toilet like a SWAT team with a set of male bouncers who, unlike us, remained outside.

“WHAT THE $%*& are YOU DOING IN HERE?” screamed a very big and very angry woman. We stood there too shocked to speak while our comrade continued to knock on the cubicle doors.

A split second before the female security killed us, our female friend staggered out of a cubicle and said in a very slurred voice. “It’s OK – they are just checking on me. I’ve been violently ill.” She then burst into tears for effect.

I found my tongue and said “Yes – we were worried. Are you OK?”

The head female security staff member glared at me. “GET OUT!!!!” she screamed. We didn’t need to be asked twice and walked out as quickly as possible with our female friend in tow, so that the male bouncers outside didn’t beat us to a pulp outside.

Actually, before I leave female public toilets, can I just ask a couple of questions?

(1) Why do women always go to public toilets in pairs?

(2) Why do women TALK to each other in public toilets?

(3) Why are female public toilets a lot cleaner in general than male public toilets?

I know, having spoken to Mrs PM at length, that female public toilets can be disgusting. She mentions “hovering” and my mind boggles.

I think we’ll leave it there.

MALE PUBLIC TOILETS

I wish I could convince women that they should never, ever, ever go into male public toilets, but I know I would be wasting my breath. You see, women have no qualms about walking into a male toilet and, worse, they never, ever get threatened with extreme violence if they do find themselves there.

Men, on the other hand, react in one of two ways if a woman walks in while nature is taking its course:

(1) They become one with the urinal in an attempt to cover their pride.

(2) They suddenly forget the basic rule of male public toilets: DON’T EVER, EVER SPEAK IN A MALE TOILET and start actually trying to chat up the woman, as if suddenly they think they are more attractive while caught in the middle of their natural duty.

I fall into category (1) and have on one occasion had to stay in the toilet for ten minutes under the hand dryer trying to rectify the obvious mistake I made.

Men’s public toilets are, in general (and let’s be kind here) absolutely disgusting places that no human being should ever see.

Why? Because there is no toilet etiquette at all in these nauseating pits of despair.

Actually, that's not quite true. Strangely, etched into the primeval database of all males, there IS etiquette when it comes to urinals. I won’t discuss this further because people like Dave Barry have done so at length and it is illustrated here:



However, there appear to be no rules when it comes to the use of the stalls, or as I prefer to call them, traps.

So, how should men behave in the traps?

(1) Do not become a bogeyman (read about it here):

(2) Always flush the toilet and, most importantly, MAKE SURE IT THAT EVERYTHING IS WASHED AWAY. Do you really think that I want to see the deposits you have made?

(3) Never, ever talk to the man in the adjacent trap. First of all, before you go about your business, ALWAYS check that there is enough toilet paper. If there isn’t then either go to the next trap or wait for another to become free. In an emergency, if you underestimate how much toilet paper you require, you must stay put until another trap becomes free rather than asking the man in the next trap to “pass you some paper under the dividing wall”.

(4) If you had a curry the night before, always carry some deodorant spray with you. I’ll leave that to your imagination.

(5) Always lift the seat if you wish to pee. Why on earth wouldn’t you?

(6) Always aim for the water and not the rim of the toilet. Again, why on earth wouldn’t you?

(7) Always put the lid down (unless of course the toilet has no lid).

(8) If you make a mess, clean it up. It is courteous and makes the toilet experience for the next person that little bit more pleasant. As a rule of thumb – always leave the toilet as you would wish to find it.

(9) Do not, under any circumstances, grunt and gasp while allowing nature to take its course. It’s bad enough listening to the noises that can’t be helped but when you start adding to the sound effects, the experience somehow degenerates into something I can barely cope with. I have started taking my mp3 player into the cubicle with me, which has led to me singing in there – an experience that is equally distressing for others. Help me out here!!

Together we can make the toilet experience a pleasant one. I know that there is nothing like your own loo and sitting on your own personal toilet in the morning, reading the newspaper; it is a strangely fulfilling experience.

At least it is for me anyway.

I told you I was weird.

The Scatterbrain

I have known people who live by Murphy’s Law: if something can go wrong for them, it will go wrong. Sadly, Mrs PM is one of those people.

Now I have to be careful here because Mrs PM does actually read the nonsense I write and, posting about how scatterbrained she is, may cause me serious pain. So instead I will relate to you an unfortunate incident involving an old friend of mine that demonstrates the point perfectly.

The story illustrates a common mistake that anybody could make (or so my mate said – I’m not sure that I believe him). Picture the scene. At university a group of us were in a night club trying to look cool at the edge of the dance floor and make eye contact with the females in the place. I was failing miserably and horribly (as usual).

Of course, several beers had been consumed and we were all slightly tipsy. My friend, let’s call him Wally, was struck by an irresistible urge to answer the call of Mother Nature. Unfortunately for him, this would not be a quick call. In retrospect I was aware that this might have been the case because the look on his face had become more and more desperate as he had tried to hang on. I mean did he honestly think that it would “go away”?

Ultimately Mother Nature was very insistent and told him in no uncertain terms that he had a choice. Either he find a toilet NOW or she would not be responsible for the consequences; he chose wisely and quite literally sprinted to the toilet.

“Gents” toilets in nightclubs the world over are worse than the third level of hell and this particular toilet was no exception. This is possibly the reason why Wally had hung on for so long. Knowing that he required a cubicle rather than a urinal, Wally raced into the “Gents” and burst straight into the nearest cubicle. Unfortunately, it was occupied – by a woman!

She screamed.

Wally screamed

In extreme panic, and as if it would make a difference, he mumbled an apology and fled. Such was his embarrassment and distress that he was out of there in a flash and into the other toilet, safely ensconced in a cubicle before the worst happened. As he sat down, his embarrassment at having entered that “Ladies” by mistake was momentarily subdued by his relief. It took a while before his alcohol soaked brain registered the fact that he had made a colossal error and seen a girl perched on the throne.

As he sat there waiting for nature to take its course, he considered what had happened and decided that perhaps he had got away with it. After all, in his mind, he had left the poor woman so quickly that she had almost certainly not seen him properly. Perhaps it was his confused alcohol-addled brain that convinced him he was fine.

But it wasn’t fine at all.

The toilet door burst open and in ran a hysterical female hotly pursued by her friend.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” she said.

“What’s the matter?” said her friend said.

“I’ve just done something terrible. I’ve just wandered into the “Gents” by mistake. There I was, sitting on the loo when this bloke burst in and caught me with my pants down. I screamed!”

“How did you manage to go to the wrong loo?” said her concerned friend.

“I was in a hurry …”

The conversation continued.

Wally’s world collapsed around him. He had not made the initial mistake; the girl had. The original toilet was indeed the “Gents” and he was now perched on a throne in a cubicle in the “Ladies” toilets.

To make matters worse, just about every other woman in the night club chose that precise moment to go to the toilet. Girl after girl poured in; some tried the cubicle door (which thankfully was locked); others chatted about guys in the club; still more reapplied their make-up. Wally was deafened by the chatter but his brain filtered out all of that; all he heard were the words of the girl he had upset as they boomed into his head.

“I feel awful,” the unfortunate woman continued. “I can’t go back out there: I might bump into him. I’m going home.”

“You can’t go home,” her friend said. “He won’t even remember you – that’s if he’s still in here.”

And so it went on …

… and on …

… and on …

… and on …

Wally by this time had long finished his business and sat there waiting for the girls to depart, hoping that the Earth would split open and swallow him up. Sadly, the girls remained, discussing her trauma for what seemed like an eternity. To make matters worse, he had been on the throne for so long that his legs were becoming numb. He had been sitting there for ages, his elbows resting on his knee and his face cradled in his hands, shaking his head in despair.

Desperate times called for desperate measures; Wally had to act.

“I’m so embarrassed,” continued the girl. “I can’t think of anything worse.”

Wally bit the bullet. He opened the door and walked out of the cubicle at that precise moment.

“I know exactly how you feel,” he said to the girl as he casually walked out.

This is typical of Wally. I have another couple of tales about his exploits that I may save for a later post. Moreover, I have stories about Mrs PM and others proving that Murphy’s Law does have favourite victims.

The sting in the tale for poor Wally on this particular occasion was that he had spent so long perched on the throne, with his chin cradled in his hands, that he had large red handprints on his cheeks for about fifteen minutes. To make matters worse, he actually fancied the victim of this particular scatterbrained incident. Unsurprisingly, she was long gone by the time he considered how to break the ice – I think the ice had been nuked already!