So off I stumbled to the ladies room on heels that were just a little too high (i.e. three centimetres) in a direction that was just a little bit wrong (i.e. I ended up in the kitchen).
Still, it wasn't till I found myself in front of the bathroom doors that the trouble really began. Because for the life of me, I couldn't work out what door I was meant to open.
No, I was not having a gender identity crisis. I was woman, and I needed to wee. The problem was, I couldn't interpret the signs upon the doors. Which sign represented 'female'? Was it the abstract figure doing something nebulous with its foot, or the abstract figure fiddling ambiguously with its head?
Now, I know I was slightly inebriated, but I honestly believe that stone cold sober I would have difficultly interpreting these mysterious signs. Pumped with alcohol, in the dark, with the urgency of a full bladder, I had no hope at all.
What ever happened to the simple 'M' and 'F'? Is it cool to be obscure? Is it in vogue to be vague? Is it fun to watch female patrons anxiously push the door open, a centimetre at a time, hoping for a reassuring glimpse of a sanitary disposal unit, terrified of encountering a - horror of horrors - urinal?
Imagine if they did that to traffic signs. If, instead of 'No Standing' there was a picture of a man in a wheelchair, or a nice frieze of aquatic life. Or, instead of 'Stop', there was a photo of a girl waggling her earlobe whilst pointing to a policeman. You know. As in, "sounds like 'cop'?"
But they won't, of course, because that could risk human lives. Which is clearly a priority. Unlike my bladder, which was at risk of being emptied on the floor of the restaurant.
So in the end, I chose the door on the right. And - low and behold - it was correct. Thank god. Wouldn't have wanted to be confronted with one of those dreaded urinals.
But next time, I'm asking the waitress for directions.
And for those of you wondering, it was the figure scratching her head. Who would have thought?
I agree! Cryptic toilet signs are very annoying, not to mention intimidating for patrons. Flashy bars are also guilty of this 'too cool for school' signage. A line extending from the women's however is often a dead giveaway, and I end up using the men's anyway.
ReplyDeleteAnd once you have finally worked out the hireglyphics on the door, the next thing to work out is how to wash your hands. Apparently taps are so passe - and who knew that water could be turned on by a simple motion (but which motion dammit - it worked for her - are my hands invisbile to you? And then you discover there is a pedal on the ground).
ReplyDeleteOnce you've washed your hands and are saturated from the fountain or trickle of water that came out (flood or drought - dude that's why you use taps - to control the flow!) you then need a GPS to inform you of the latest hand drying technology around. There is a bin but no paper towel, there is a metal appliance stuck to the wall so you assume its a dryer that asks you to deposit $1 for the privilege of drying your hands, and then you are gladly rewarded with a two pack of ribbed extra large condoms. hmm not the dryer at all then.
Yep - I have given up going to the loo in public, unless its my local westfield.
Kim - I've also used the men's toilets when the line is too long. And once at a concert, when the line stretched a mile and I was busting, I told the evil guard outside the disabled toilet (which was EMPTY, mind you) that if she didn't let me in I'd wee on the floor and sue her for emotional distress. She let me in.
ReplyDeleteAnd Ally - LOVE IT! And completely agree. Once I stayed in a toilet for 20 minutes trying to work out how to flush the damn thing. It was only when I gave up and left the stall that it flushed. It did it automatically when you opened the door. Of course. GRRRRRRRR
Ally, I think we've been to the same Canberra nightclub. I'm sure there are hidden cameras in there somewhere and the owners sit in a back room pissing themselves at the drunks looking like fools.
ReplyDeleteWhat about women who don't bother to flush and you're end up witnessing her s**t and flushing it yourself? Always happens to me! It absolutely disgust me!
ReplyDeleteMy worst is the restaurant with the gender neutral toilet. I am not gender neutral and I want to be in the toilets with other slightly inebbreiated woman (so that I can watch how they apply their lipstick and copy them).
ReplyDeleteLove your work and hope that you write forever and never go work for the Roads and Traffic Authority creating street signs
I'm still in horror from a toilet at a very well known Parisian restaurant many, many years ago that hadn't evolved past the hole in the floor stage. I mean, really. Oh - and like Sharpest Pencil's issue, it was a gender-neutral hole in the wall. Ewwwwww. I had to move out of France after that. I mean, I have standards.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I am a very good aim. So no Paris for me :(
ReplyDeletexx
Sparkly Tiara & Pip,
ReplyDeleteI love Paris, but toilet facilities rate VERY highly in my priorities for holiday destinations. That restaurant is definitely OUT!
Kerri, it was 20 years ago. They may have dragged themselves into the sit-down-toilet age by now. That said, I can't actually remember the name of the restaurant in question, so can't provide more detailed warnings.
ReplyDeleteOh, and Pip, my aim wasn't too good either. I think I left some shoes behind when I fled the country...
My post-baby bladder comiserates. After a particularly unfortunate jogging incident, I won't ever make that mistake again.
ReplyDeleteThe signs should be direct, still I had the ones of the little kids peeing. Yeah, we're all going in there to do that....but do we have to see it on the door?
ReplyDeleteS#XinthePantry - LOL, agreed, prefer direct, but not graphic!
ReplyDeleteThe signs should be direct, still I had the ones of the little kids peeing. Yeah, we're all going in there to do that....but do we have to see it on the door?
ReplyDeleteI don't think I am a very good aim. So no Paris for me :(
ReplyDeletexx