My favorite part of the local casino is the bathroom.
It reminds me of the one in Harrod’s Department store in England when I was there many years ago.
Look straight ahead in the photo and you can see the fine louvered doors to the toilets. You can even see a toilet.
In Harrod’s, they had the louvers a bit more than half way up the door and the rest was glass. I thought this was darn queer. Why would I want to sit on a toilet, grunt, and watch who was coming and going. So to speak.
While I was sitting on the toilet in Harrods, the nice lady who worked in the loo came up, looked in the window at me, waved and asked if everything was alright, and could she get me anything?
I said, “No thank you, I’m fine.”
This doesn’t happen in America. You close the door to the toilet, sit down and do your business, and no one opens the door and asks after your welfare. However, sometimes little children in the next stall will stick their heads under the siding that divides you from their compartment. Their heads are upside down and they stare at you. They never ask if they can be of service by handing you toilet paper or something they just like to watch you pee.
Have you ever considered the different toilets we use?
There was the one I wrote about before in the fish market where a sign demanded that you not stand on the toilets to do your business but if you did, in fairness to the other customers, “Please wipe the droplets off the toilet seat.”
I went to Europe on a tour at least twenty five years ago, and here is what I remember:
Being on the bus all the time and stopping at various toilets. They were either unisex and you all went in together, or the men and women’s were open and side by side and you could watch people relieving themselves.
You also had to pay to pee. At that time they didn’t have the Euro, so you always hoped you had the correct money for the country you were in. If you didn’t have the coin, things could get truly difficult for you.
When you entered, every bathroom had someone who handed you toilet paper or chewing gum or combs and you had to give them money so you could relieve yourself.
Every toilet stop on the bus tour had a shop that sold little petit fore cakes with fruit on top of them. Lots of fruit. Maybe all that fruit that people bought and ate in all these places kept all the toilet stops in business.
In one country and one city while out walking, I had to urgently use one of those round one person bathrooms set up on the street. It cost me money to get in. I didn’t realize that there was a time limit on how long you could sit on the toilet. I didn’t realize it until my time was up and the door popped wide open and there I sat on the throne right in the middle of the city and all the pedestrians.
I took this all in stride because I was in another country and surely people were used to seeing these doors pop open; surely seeing someone sitting red-faced on the toilet or wiping their privates right next to the sidewalk was common place and nothing to notice in particular.
This month is a perfect time for a Phone Reading with me!