I am very fortunate to be able to travel A LOT, yes, A LOT is two words, just sayin’. I love me some travel, going to new countries, new cities and new venues. There is always a situation that fills me with dread, visiting a public toilet, yes, in America you have to ask for the restroom, asking for the dunny falls on deaf ears let me tell you. The WORST experiences I have had are in my own fabulous country, Australia. I guess it is because I travel more here so I am meddling with probability I guess?
My sister and I to seem to have an uncanny knack of always walking into a stall with remnants of the previous visitor. We started keeping a “skiddy” tally, as we both lay claim to have the higher number of grossness, but we eventually gave up, it was a far too common an occurrence to continue. Doesn’t everyone know that if you put some toilet paper in first it reduces the chances of leaving anything behind?
I have recently returned from a trip to Sydney, you know the first place visitors think of when the word Australia gets mentioned overseas. Now, I’m not a fan of the joint, however, I was there to attend an event, so decided to stay a few extra days. Last I checked, Sydney is in Australia and in a first world country, pity some of its visitors and inhabitants are filthy bitches.
Before I go much further, I shall use code, as I don’t want to lose any readers. I may also add, you asked for this, from a recent Facebook status update you requested the details, nobody’s fault but your own!
Urine – #1
Faeces – #2
Menstruation – shark week
Vomit – ate a dodgy dumpling
Day one was enough to make me want to jump back on the first flight to the safe sanctuary of my own ensuite. After driving 4.5 hrs to the airport, then hanging around waiting to board, then travelling from the West on the dreaded red eye flight, of which I can NOT sleep on, we lobbed in the hotel foyer. With the full understating that we couldn’t check in as we were hours too early, we thought, we may as well park up, have a second breakie and drink coffee and await our room. My very first trip to the ladies was greeted with a female, I will never use the word lady in this post as none are worthy, getting rid of a #2 with much audible fanfare, with the toilet door wide open! WIDE FUCKING OPEN PEOPLE! I should have turned right around and ran out, arms flailing, however, I was busting after my second coffee and fourth water, there were 4 stalls, she was in one, I didn’t want to go either side, so used the 4th, which was filthy BTW. Look, I get everyone needs to have a #2 when travelling, but really? I don’t wanna fucking know about it more than I have to! I’m pretty sure she didn’t speak the same language as me, but she got the gist of my opinion of her and her toilet using ways. I have never worked for the Department of Health, but I am sure breathing through my hair and clothing saves me from whatever contaminants might be floating in the air, right? My husband always knows when I have had a “moment” in the public toilets, I come out ashen and silently shaking my head with tears welling. All I could do was nod in the general direction of the female mentioned as she exited, lighter.
Over the 6 days of this trip, my husband saw my ashen, silently nodding self, come back from numerous trips to the toilets. I always wonder, do they do this in their own houses? Who the fuck lives like this and thinks it is civilised and acceptable? I totally get it, sometimes the toilets do not flush, jeepers, I’ve had some moments myself where I had to be a plumber to get it working. I also get sometimes toilet paper gets on the floor, when you reach in for it, it seems to come out as confetti. I have used loos in so, so many countries, holes in the ground & squat toilets etc, one quickly learns some Western clothes do not work so well for this style. I get most places in other countries don’t use toilet paper like westerners, I get to put it in a bucket and only flush #1’s and #2’s. I get the hose thingy, how the hell women come out of there wearing a burka and come out dry, when the walls and floors are wet, truly is a skill. Some of the best bathroom facilities I have come across and cleanest are in Bangkok, with their fancy schmancy Japanese style toilets in public restrooms. However, in Australia, we do also have fantastic facilities, learn how to be a decent human being and use them as they are intended to be used and leave it as you would like it to be left for you, not too difficult is it? Surely?
Public Restroom in Bangkok shopping centre, nice, just as it should be.
Back in the days of my bar wench ways, I encountered a few mind boggling pearlers. One day a female decided to put a #2 on the window sill, on the fucking window sill? How or why I will never know. Another time it was during shark week and she left the white pony she rode in on resting on top of the toilet paper dispenser NEXT to the sanitary bin. And, how does one leave #2’s on the toilet seat anyway and how do you not see it when you flush? Do you flush reverse about? I have shared a single work toilet with many a miner and truck driver to know some men are no better either, but I am almost positive women are worse. I also get the “if it’s yellow, let it mellow, if it’s brown, flush it down” for conserving water, but in a communal bathroom, NO! I am from the country, so I have had many toilet stops, being behind a shrub in the bush, I’m no princess, but good hygiene is high on my list of personal traits I think is admirable. Hell, I have even #1’d on the side of the road in a rattle snake infested desert in the United States, I would rather do that again then use some shopping centre toilets.
Lakeside Joondalup, new washroom basins, Noice.
The second last day of my trip truly took the #2 producing cake. We were ticking the final things off the list of sights to visit and meals to be eaten. We were on our way back via public transport, so I thought best to have a #1 before the trip back. I entered the public toilet of a very nice shopping centre right in the city, there were a bunch of females using the wash basin area as their private meeting place, chatting, taking selfies, preening themselves, that in itself is a mystery to me. I saw there were 6 stalls, 2 were occupied. Stall 1, toilet paper all over the floor, can deal, seat up, bowl filled with paper and #2’s, can’t deal, back out holding my muttering breath. Stall 2, the floor was mostly clean, toilet seat was down. Now, I do consider myself a “get on and deal with it” kind of person, it was going to be a 50/50 of what was to be discovered if I lifted the lid right? You know I lifted it. What was I greeted with? A bowl filled with contents not so pleasing, I will assume it was shark week? Again, I backed out, I wasn’t quite holding my mutters in anymore. Stall 3, surely this was mine for the using? I couldn’t even get near the bowl, there was so much paper on the ground I couldn’t get near the closed lid to see what treasures awaited. I back out to see what was behind door number 4. Surely I would be rewarded? OK floor relatively clean, but once again, seat down, I had nothing to lose? Ok, unflushed #1, no paper BTW, just #1. I will assume that paper on the ground was used, it wasn’t in my foot space, can deal. I flushed the bowl, it worked, it fucking worked, why the previous occupant couldn’t do what I did, I will never know. The seat also seemed to have shoe prints on it, I say no more. So, as I was by this time busting, it didn’t take me long to quickly do what I needed to do, whilst breathing through my shirt, whilst clutching onto my bag, of course there wasn’t a hook. As I reached down to get some toilet paper, I noticed, from a different angle now, why stall 3 had so much paper on the ground, the previous occupant obviously ate a dodgy dumpling, ALL over the floor and feeblishly covered with toilet paper, FOR FUCKS SAKE! My shallow breathing germ fears were overridden by my need to violently swear like a turrets sufferer. I think I used every naughty word known to man and clearly to woman, as those females preening themselves, of who I can only assume were part of the putrid posse inflicting such vile acts upon me, used the toilets before me, quickly departed. As I made my retreat, the two other stalls were STILL occupied, we can only guess what they were up to! Thank goodness the soap dispenser worked, I pumped that baby dry, I also considered a quick all over body wash and a soap gargle, but I had to get out of there. My hubby once again looked into my eyes and knew not to ask.
Yerp, I think that should be enough dunny paper, discovered in The Yosemite National Park, USA.
The final straw which lead me to writing this post was when we flew back home. I thought best to duck into the loo before venturing to the car park before the long drive home. The VERY first cubical, which was open and clearly visible to the entrance of the toilet area, the floor and bowl was covered in #2, yes, people, #2’s. Who or what done that, yes, a female. One then has to assume this person got on a flight, this was inside the secure area. It had then been trod on throughout the cubicle, thank goodness there were another 7 or so stalls empty. This person clearly needs to see a doctor not venture out on holidays! I couldn’t shake the vision for the whole 4.5 hr drive home, I kept telling myself it was chocolate, seeing it is Easter, they must’ve put a few eggs in their pockets and when they lowered their pants, they fell out, then they trod on them, feasible?
I believe that the cleaners for such facilities deserve FAR more money than they are getting or at least be issued with a hazchem suit. Perhaps we need to bring in the European smartness of paying as you go. I really do not understand, I really, truly do not. How difficult is it to do what ya gotta do, flush, wash your hands, use hand towel then place it in the bin, how fucking hard? Clearly for some filthy bitches, impossible.
Surely it was chocolate?
