Let me start off this post by venting about this absolutely atrocious Scrabble hand I pulled. I mean, just look at it! Who on earth pulls five E's. Needless to say I lost the game but ONLY because of this severe handicap in the lady luck department.
The term paper/exam season madness is raging full boar on campus these days. I my diet has degraded to a constant intake of coffee, sugar-free energy drinks, diet colas and crunchy snack foods that I can stuff in my maw while also pounding away on my laptop keyboard. I haven't been to the gym since last week, the energy drinks have turned by piss a curious shade of nuclear yellow and for reasons I can't explain or justify I've been listening to Josh Groban songs on YouTube. All in all I feel slightly off kilter. Maybe this is a creeping kind of psychosis brought on by high levels of stress and a near lethal daily caffeine intake.
NO MATTER! Though if I have a heart attack the next time I drag my ass to the gym I wouldn't exactly be surprised.
But other more troubling (and certainly more important) thoughts have been crowding my mind of late.
Maybe someone out there in cyber space has an answer for this question that I have to admit has stumped me for quite some time.
I've been to several house parties in the past, complete with food, music, drink, company, that at first seemed entirely normal. After a few strong cocktails of course there comes the necessity to use the loo. Everything's going fine, the bathroom looks clean, as I sit and do my business I replay all the cool things I said to the hot actor fellow as we hovered near the spinach dip. Enjoying the memory I mindlessly reach to grab some TP and - GASP! - lo and behold, there's none there! Panties still in position around my ankles I search desperately for kleenex, towelettes, ANYTHING! that is within arm's reach. But of course there is nothing.
Quashing my irritation and with the determination that this sorry state of affairs is not going to ruin my night, I do the only thing a woman can do, shake dry. Not a perfect solution but it will do. Now I turn my attention to the sink. Probably best to wash my hands even if I didn't have the chance to wipe.
Getting the hands wet, checking make up in the mirror, inspecting teeth for embarrassing particles of food - okay, looking good!
And of course the soap tray is empty. Peeling back the shower curtain with my dripping paws I inspect the bathtub area for any sign of cleansing material, hell, even body wash would do. Nothing. Under the sink amidst the clutter of dusty cleaning products and disintegrating bath bombs ... still nothing.
Well, nothing to be done I suppose. I'll just have to dry my hands and hope my hypochondriac friend has some hand sanitizer in her purse.
The empty towel rack stares at me with cold mockery.
After a clumsy wiping on the unfriendly vinyl surface of the shower curtain or a series of dabs on the overly fuzzy toilet seat cover I return to the party feeling soiled, like the girl who steps out for a cigarette out back with that guy and then comes back brushing leaves off her knees.
The host swoops by riding a wave of social euphoria; "Heeeeyyyyy! Good to see you! Are you having a good time?" "Well actually--" "Good!!! Oh- Oh my God, I've got to talk to ______. So glad you could make it!!!"
And with that they've flitted away. I wince as I see them shake a newcomers hand in welcome. If only they knew!!!
So why do people do this? Throw a party ... with PEOPLE who are DRINKING and will eventually need to PISS!?! Is it a sadistic inside joke? Do they flounce around their party revelling in the fact that they know everyone's hands are coated in an imperceptible layer of shit particles? When the party wears on and the drunkards start molesting each other do they silently rejoice in the utter filthiness of it?
I know it's a little gross and I'm even reticent to mention this disturbing social phenomena but I've been present at parties like this several times. Anyone who knows me personally is aware that I'm not exactly a prude but there is something decidedly unwholesome about organizing a social gathering in your home and then not providing people with the means to be sanitary.
To finish I bring you the most hilarious realtor sign I've ever seen. It's been up for months along the route I walk to my cousin's house from the Yorkdale subway stop through Toronto's bastion of orthodox Jewishness. I don't know if it's the bad pun, the cheesy pot o' gold graphic or the hardcore beard action on the headshot, but the sum of the parts is beyond priceless.
1. Hasn't "Eeeew" made it into the OED yet? All you needed was a 'w'.
ReplyDelete2. That RE sign is priceless.
3. I've noticed lately that women are using ENORMOUS amounts of TP. When I have company, I have to stock up. On Hornby, where the drainage is slow, I have often been up at midnight with the toilet plunger. Excessive use of TP is a recent phenom. What brought it on?
I jump at any chance to contribute to a conversation. I would like to answer your questions concerning bathroom ettiquette and TP availability, but I'm a guy.
ReplyDeleteIs this really a chick thing? Do men not have the need to wipe on occasion? Okay, I'll concede the fact that women have more "wipe-able parts" but what about the no soap, no towel situation? It seems that, combined, these three fails in decorum form a triptych of social negligence.
ReplyDeleteSo I propose the following:
1. Men know women like to use a lot of toilet paper.
2. Men know women will be coming to the party/social event they are holding.
3. Men want women to have a good time and believe that they are potty trained i.e. fit for dating/breeding or other social activities.
4. Therefor, MEN SHOULD HAVE TP IN THEIR BATHROOMS!!!!!
Come to think of it the scenario I've described in my post has only occurred at the residences of men. Hmmmm ... food for thought. :-)
1. Yes, if you call that TP-wrapped boxing mitt at the end of the arm “Using toilet paper,” guys know. We wonder if you should be trusted with such a precious resource.
ReplyDelete2. If guys KNOW that women are coming to the party they stop thinking.
3. Guy’s mantra for having a good time, “Show up. Bring beer.”
4. Guys are a little intimidated by soap and stuff. None of the soaps ever show any sign of use. I’m not going to bespoil a perfectly good soap. And the neatly folded little towels (or they the wash clothes) are quite forbidding. What do I do with it if I use it? We do what we do best, we avoid the situation. We don’t do anything that would involve sitting down. Guys fear dropping the one that lingers and seeps out into the main action. There are not enough matches to be lit or candles to be burned to get rid of it. We are afraid that that aerosol might be hair spray. We have become quite adroit at going without having to touch anything personal. The trajectory may suffer a bit and there’s that weird double stream thing but otherwise it’s aim from the hips, draw in, zip up. A quick wipe on the jeans finishes the job.
You're getting so fussy in your old age ;)
ReplyDelete