My recent post, Things (don’t) happen for a reason, got me thinking about etiquette and courtesy. For starters, here’s my take on the courtesy flush.
“Hey, it stinks in here! How about a courtesy flush?”
A courtesy flush assists your neighbor when he or she is in the process of doing their own business in a public restroom. Free to continue without assault, you’re both happy. If you don’t offer a courtesy flush, your neighbor’s irritated and waits until you exit, to get up. No one wants to look a Stinka-Rinko in the eyes. “That’s a mighty handsome soap dispenser… Wow, the lights in here are as bright as highway paint… My, my, this linoleum floor looks pretty good for being 50 years old…” What’s really going on here?
If there’s a next time, your neighbor will be flying in for a sneak attack tomorrow morning, for the purpose of leaving little presents for your olfactory receptors. Have a nice ******* day.
Problem is, you become a contortionist, if you want to get your own business done without worrying about your neighbor’s level of tolerance and that doesn’t work for most of us. Twist around to use the inconveniently placed lever. It matters not whether you’re right or left-handed, the toilet’s handle is to the right or left – if you’re over five feet tall, this is practice for an innovative circus routine. Shorter people and kids of all sizes have a whole separate set of issues with flushing.
Please, take your head out of the newspaper – design a toilet with a five speed stick shift on the side, so we can go as fast or slow as we want to, and time our courtesy flushes accordingly. I like this idea much more than sensors or pull chains. Oh, and don’t forget the seat belt.
Stay tuned for the next episode of “Quaint Courtesies for the Questionably Polite.”