Spent an inordinate time on the road again yesterday, which means I saw an inordinate number of roadside bathrooms. I can say with confidence that toilet etiquette south of Northern Illinois is no better than it is north of here. Sigh.
Having spent 11 hours and more than 500 miles in a car today, I had the opportunity to see and, oftentimes, use a wide variety of porta-potties, wayside restrooms, fast food ladies’ rooms and Burp ‘N Slurp commodes.
The state of toilet etiquette in these joints along Interstate 90 is deplorable, and I suspect the same may be said for powder rooms across America. (Side note: Nothing in the Midwest is as scary as the public bathroom I encountered once in Tokyo: It was a concrete trench in the ground. That’s it. No stall. No seat. No paper. A hole. For a woman with an inseam of 36-inches, squatting down that far is feat by itself. Impossible with pants one leg on and one leg off. And for God’s sake, keep the panties out-of-the-way, too! Oh, the horror! Never again.)
If we all were to follow these three simple —…
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