Toilet Trouble

This is a v.short blog, but I just felt that my tweet on the subject didn’t quite convey the level of my fervour.

There is a reason that men and women have separate toilets, when it comes to public places, and it’s nothing to do with the fact that if men and women shared there’d be a lot more shagging going on, although the actual reason is definitely linked to anatomy. It’s this: your average man urinates standing up and sometimes his aim isn’t spot on, especially after a few beers. Now, if a man wees on the floor at home, he either has to clean it up himself or someone has to do it for him, causing him either to get on hands and knees or suffer a lot of earache. At home, a man will try a little bit harder to get pee in toilet bowl. In a public place, particularly in a bar, it’s not such a big deal. For a start, there are urinals with nice little deodorising cakes for boys to aim at and the space in which it’s ok to pee is wider.

I had the pleasure of meeting a friend in Fibre in Leeds’ swinging gay district last night. Two beers in and I was dying for the loo. I followed the smell of urine up the stairs and it started to dawn on me that these were the toilets I have always hated, but always forget the bar in which they are located. It is dark in those toilets. In the middle of the room is what can only be described as a long, narrow, stainless steel water feature for washing your hands. At the end of this sits two throne-like chairs in black. The stench is unbearable up here. The entire room is tiled in black tiles, the cubicles are black and the lights are dim. I headed for the cubicle nearest the door in a desperate bid to stay as close as possible to the ventilation. As I shut the door, I shut out most of the light and when I took a step forward, my shoe slipped and there was v.nearly a painful moment wherein I discovered that I couldn’t do the splits. Somehow, I managed to stay upright and sprang back to the door. As my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, I realised that there was piss absolutely everywhere. And I mean everywhere. It was all over the floor, up the walls, on the toilet seat. In fact, the only place that wasn’t urine-soaked was the small patch on which I was standing. It was truly vile.

I never understood why gay bars have unisex toilets. I always thought that maybe it was something to do with the fact that it could cause confusion amongst transgender and non-transgender punters. In which case there should STILL be separate toilets and the signs should be thus: Stander Uppers and Sitter Downers!

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