Every now and then I must use the public rest rooms for reasons that are quite obvious. A little makeup refresher, maybe to rest a while, even to wash my hands or face, or perhaps because I’m just tired of dancing.
Whenever I enter one, I immediately make an assessment of the place, and decide if I want to continue to use it. Often the place calls me, if I am about to embark on a long trip via plane or train, or even by the horseless carriage.
Many times the Little Woman will automatically wait for me to go as she knows I will, before stepping out to the car! 35 years with the same woman, it gets so she knows my every move. She has of course never gone in 35 years that I have known her as my wife!
It is when its time to leave the room that trouble starts for me. I get the Monk or Howard Hughes complex, grab a paper towel after I have washed my hands and stare at the doorknob or handle and insulate my hand with it to prevent germs from contacting me. I don’t think it is unreasonable, and think it IS practical.
One of my children when he was little would enter with me and immediately make a loud vocal assessment of the place, especially if it was smelly or filthy. If he didn’t like it, I took him out, not because of health reasons, but because I was just embarrassed to stay there any longer!
I had a friend who worked for me, and on a company “Take your child to work” day brought his 4-year old son to work. He took him to the rest room and the little fellow used the urinal. After he was done, he started to gyrate his hips and his father getting curious asked: “Why are you doing that?” His reply: “Whenever I go to the bathroom, and I finish, Mommy says I should shake.”
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