Matters of necessity

Okay, I’ve noticed a whole lot of hoo-ha about the apparent sanctity of the public loos in this country. You know—what birth infrastructure you should be able to display in order to use the door labeled either Ladies or Gentlemen. (Or variants thereof.)

Yes, I understand there are some serious economic issues involved in regulating how businesses provide “restrooms”. Just as there were when the Americans with Disabilities Act required businesses to make their facilities wheelchair accessible. I also understand that it’s disconcerting to be in the process of taking care of private physical needs and unexpectedly discovering a person in that small space whose appearance doesn’t mirror yours.

But there’s something else that’s bothering me a whole lot more than which set of birth-genitalia might or might not still be on the person walking through a specific door. It’s that—in a building full of people engaged in the support of scientific inquiry, the preponderance of whom are highly educated—it’s become apparent that some fair number of them are not washing their hands after using the toilet. I hear the flush, and then the sound of the door opening and closing. No intervening use of the washbasin.

In a word: euw.

As far as I’m concerned, if you use the facilities for the intended purpose, aren’t yapping continuously on your mobile phone, don’t toss trash around the place, and exhibit basic standards of hygiene, you can pee next to me whenever the necessity prompts you.

The rest of you can basically go piss up a rope.