You, and your #2

On my brother’s coffee table, where most people keep their hardcover compilations of Andrew Wyeth prints or the architecture of I.M. Pei, my brother Ed has the book Everybody Poops, by Taro Gomi. While I don’t disagree with the general assertion of the book’s title, I would like to point out that it is neither called Everybody Poops Everyday nor Everybody Poops in Public.

But I realize that we can’t all have the self-control that some of my friends claim and confine our dumps to the privacy of our homes. So, for those of you who take advantage of your constitutionally (or perhaps biblically, I haven’t really confirmed) granted right to public pooping, here are a few ground rules:

1. Do not marinate. Over the years I have spent working in office towers, I have come to the conclusion that there are, in fact, people who think their shit don’t stink. I beg to disagree, and in fact would assert that you shit stinks worse than everyone else’s. There is a little lever or button behind you. Please push it the moment your first little turd hits the water. And don’t hesitate to use it again, if need be. Don’t worry about the environment; we’ve already screwed that up.

2. Do not, for the love of God, talk on your cell phone in a public bathroom, while taking a dump. Number one, if you’re doing this, you’re probably not likely to courtesy flush, because you don’t want the person on the other end of the line to know what you’re doing. Number two, that’s disgusting. And number three, I have made it my personal mission in life to scream, “She’s taking a shit!” as loudly as possible if I ever encounter that situation again.

3. Hit your target, or find a new job. I am serious about this one. The proportions of a toilet are ample, and should accommodate most peoples’ butts, but it seems like a few of you haven’t quite mastered the positioning of your body over the hole. Perhaps you should practice. Perhaps, in fact, you should seek occupation therapy, because this is kind of a big deal. It becomes an even bigger deal when you skip your fat ass out of the stall, and leave your poop spackles all over the seat for an unsuspecting stranger (me!) to encounter. Lo, the handwashing and gnashing of teeth that has to happen in order for me to regain my ability to function after one of these encounters. Bottom line, poopers, if you can’t manage the intricacies of a public toilet, then you either need to get help for your problem, or you need to find a job where public toilets are not something for you to navigate. Keep your damn e-coli to yourself. And this brings me to my last rule…

4. Wash your hands. Like you mean it! This means doing more than apathetically running the tips of your fingers under the water for two seconds. A real handwashing involves three distinct steps: Step one: get your hands wet. Putting soap onto dry hands is like putting shampoo onto dry hair: it just doesn’t work that way. Step two: lather ‘em up! All the way to the wrists, friends, that’s where the cooties live. Step three: rinse and dry. By dry, I mean not only your hands, but the sink that you slopped water all over. And if you can’t follow these simple steps, please just don’t ever touch anything that I might touch.

If you’re guilty of not following one or more of these rules, don’t feel bad; you just didn’t know. But now you do, so let’s start putting them into action! Happy pooping, friends!