Deb: We were at the Stratford Festival yesterday to see Peter Pan. For those of you in the area, or those who are so inclined, I highly recommend it. Magical! Our good friend, Tom, is playing Captain Hook and it is one of those blessed marriages of actor and role. When I was in the loo/washroom/powder room/toilet/bathroom (hope that covers our followers around the world), I was reminded of a blog-post I have been meaning to write for a while.
It is simply thus. My body does NOT trigger sensors. You KNOW what I am talking about. The fancy toilets that flush as soon as you stand up. And the taps that turn on as soon as your hands are in the general vicinity of the sink. Not me. Nope. Nothing. Nada. And so there I stand in the toilet hovering and swinging my derrière back and forth like a rhythm-deprived stripper. Hoping against hope that the sound of a flush will be forthcoming. If someone is waiting for my stall, I feel compelled as I exit to make excuses and drive home that fact that I have thrown out my hip trying to trigger the damn thing. And although they want to be sympathetic, their expression quickly turns sour, as they begin to realize what awaits them on the other side of the door.
Then I rush, humiliated, to the sinks, only to find the same issue as I wave my fingers frantically over the sensor. I move panic-stricken from sink to sink, like a bad semaphore, an embarrassed flush flooding my cheeks. So I lay in wait until the first wave of witnesses have left the washroom. Then I pretend to wipe the excess water off my hands with the all too dry paper towel. These loo newcomers are none the wiser. But the jig will soon be up. They will walk into the stall with expectations of cleanliness, their high hopes dashed. I’m NOT a boor, I swear. I can’t help it.
What can a dirty girl do? I’m looking into a “trigger” implant.
Barbara: Ha! Poor thing! I, of course, have the opposite problem. I am a tall girl, not “big”, but not a waif. I set off those damn triggers just by walking into the stall. And, argh, there’s nothing like sitting on the toilet and being hosed with a flush set off by the automatic trigger. I feel myself shuddering upon shudder at the certain horror of being awash with other people’s waste. So disgusting!!! I’d rather pretend I am too loutish to flush than have the toilet turn into an unsolicited, germ-infested pseudo-bidet. Argh.
