My favorite part of the local casino is the bathroom.
It reminds me of the one in Harrod’s Department store in England when I was there many years ago.
Look straight ahead in the photo and you can see the fine louvered doors to the toilets. You can even see a toilet.
In Harrod’s, they had the louvers a bit more than half way up the door and the rest was glass. I thought this was darn queer. Why would I want to sit on a toilet, grunt, and watch who was coming and going. So to speak.
While I was sitting on the toilet in Harrods, the nice lady who worked in the loo came up, looked in the window at me, waved and asked if everything was alright, and could she get me anything?
I said, “No thank you, I’m fine.”
This doesn’t happen in America. You close the door to the toilet, sit down and do your business, and no one opens the door and asks after your welfare. However, sometimes little children in the next stall will stick their heads under the siding that divides you from their compartment. Their heads are upside down and they stare at you. They never ask if they can be of service by handing you toilet paper or something they just like to watch you pee.
Have you ever considered the different toilets we use?
There was the one I wrote about before in the fish market where a sign demanded that you not stand on the toilets to do your business but if you did, in fairness to the other customers, “Please wipe the droplets off the toilet seat.”
I went to Europe on a tour at least twenty five years ago, and here is what I remember: Continue reading