Some words on private toilets

A dear friend recently made it clear to me that they were put off by the fact that I only use public restrooms when there are multiple toilets in my own home, so I thought I should address that publicly here.

Let me be very clear about this: I harbor no resentment nor hard feelings towards private bathrooms and toilets. Many people seem to think that I am some sort of purist with dreams of returning to the olden days when the only place to use the bathroom was a pit in the center of town that little boys used to scrub clean every day for a couple of nickels. Although I enjoy the quaintness of that sort of lifestyle, this is not the case.

To me, using the bathroom is an experience that deserves to be shared with others. The whole reason I started this blog was to bond with fellow bathroom users over our common passion. Every time I enter a public bathroom, I peek under the stalls and give a friendly hello to everyone I see. Using the bathroom is a community event. I have always seen using the bathroom inside your home as a somewhat masturbatory routine backed by gluttonous solitude. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth every time.

The last time I used a private bathroom in someone's home, I was left with such overwhelming feelings of loneliness that I swore to never use a private bathroom ever again. 

This has been perhaps my greatest failure as a father. Despite my best efforts, neither one of my children has ever shown much of an interest in the public restroom experience. They've only become less interested as time goes on. I know that it is part of growing up and I'm sure they'll come around eventually, but for now it is hard to bond with them. They would much rather play sports and skateboard and go to the mall with their friends than visit Charleston's public bathrooms with their dad. I think that is probably why I have always felt so disconnected from them. Some days I look at them and feel absolutely nothing. No joy, no hope, no paternal devotion. It wasn't always this way, though. Potty training them was the most intimate interaction I have ever had with another human being. It was like all of my life's work had finally culminated into something that meant something. Unfortunately these days, I sometimes have a hard time believing they are even mine. Their eyes are no longer recognizable to me. This has been the root of a lot of my problems with my wife as well. She has been staying in a hotel for the last few weeks. I go over there every couple of days to use their lobby's restroom, which is quite nice. I think that hotel restrooms tend to have a much higher standard of cleanliness than other categories of restroom. I may consider doing a report on that soon.

So call it strange, call it weird, call me a freak. Sticks and stones, clown. I will not sacrifice my mental health just to conform to your brainwashed idea of what a toilet should be. We all have the power to make the public restroom experience better and to create a more tightly-knit community of public restroom users. Whether it be a playful foot rub from under the stall wall or a friendly shoulder rub at the urinal, we owe it to ourselves to look out for each other and lift each other up. I can't imagine a better place to strengthen our communities than our local public bathrooms.