Bathroom Jive

Modern conveniences can be confusing, especially those occurring in public restrooms. While I appreciate their sanitary benefits, I am often irritated by their sensory operation.

First, there’s the toilets. These new, white, porcelain stools are smarter than the old-fashioned models. They know you’re in there. They know when you sit, they know when you stand, and they flush when you’re done.

They’re supposed to anyway.

However, I’ve had more than a few overly-sensitive stools. Too much pre-seated motion or a slight shift once perched upon its top, and the flusher goes off… unexpectedly, loudly, and sometimes repeatedly. Yes, premature flushing is a glitch in the system, as is non-existent flushing. If, for some reason, the throne doesn’t sense your absence, there is no way to manually activate the disposal of its contents without re-enacting the squat-and-stand motion. Squat. Stand. Squat. Stand. Squat. Stand.

And once you leave the stall, you’re faced with another set of challenges: the faucet and the paper towel dispenser. Some have knobs that need turned. Others require a frantic wave-down to operate. The latter are designed to require only the presence of your hands beneath their front edge. However, I frequently find that placing my hands in the designated spot is not adequate enough to achieve the goal. Waving is often necessary. Large motion seems to be the only successful trigger, so I practically perform the hand jive under the spigot, hoping for a small stream of water while other bathroom-goers seem to activate theirs with ease.

I’ve gotten so used to these modern conveniences, however, that yesterday I walked away from a running faucet, not remembering it was my responsibility to shut it off. I was in the middle of drying my hands before I realized the sink was filling with water. Oops!

I guess bathroom visits aren’t as simple as they used to be. The fancy new gadgets in our stalls and on our sinks are teaching us old dogs some new tricks. I’m willing to learn, but don’t laugh at my hand jive.