Bathroom Break
Ok, so I’ve finally managed to get this away from Erica long enough to add my own entry to the Caskey Coast to Coast blog….not that she hasn’t done a fantastic job. ☺
Well, as you can tell by the title of this entry, I’m going to spend a few minutes discussing some of the bathroom situations we’ve found ourselves in during the last 10 days. We’ll call it the GOOD, the BAD and the really, really, ridiculously SMALL. First, we’ll start with some of the winners.
By far the state of Texas wins for it’s Busch Gardens-like rest stop. The Lone Star state knows how to BRING IT when it comes to making it’s visitors feel welcome. We’re talking a 2-story, wi-fi hotspot complete with interactive history kiosks disguised as wagon trains and saloons. These entertaining features were only to be upstaged by the on-site sheriff and working water tower. And wait, we haven’t even gotten to the bathroom yet. IMMACULATE. Cleaner than many restaurants I’ve been in. Fantastic granite counter tops, and tons of space – perfect for entertaining [can you tell I’ve been doing some real estate work? ☺] (Erica was particularly fond of the 2-ply, quilted toilet tissue.) All in all our BEST overall bathroom stop of the trip. As they say – you don’t mess with Texas.
Missouri really did “SHOW ME” when it came to technological breakthroughs in restroom features. It was the most fascinating devices that I’ve encountered in a bathroom in my 30 years of life on this planet. It was an ALL-IN-ONE soap dispenser, faucet and hand drying device. You place your hands into this hole and 2 drops of antibacterial soap are perfectly deposited in the palm of your hand (not quite as much soap as I personally prefer, but enough to get the job done). Then an automatic stream of warm water begins to run, allowing you to work the soap into a nice lather. Rinse and THEN - the automatic hand dryer begins to blow, actually blowing WARM air onto your hands. (Although I would have expected to see this in West Virginia given the NUMEROUS Technology Corridor signs we kept seeing – I was very much impressed with the Jeston-like technology that I went back 3 times before leaving. ☺)
Now, on to the ugly. A vast majority of our rest stop experiences fall into this category. (If you haven’t heard Dane Cook’s bit on public bathrooms – you need to. It pretty much sums it up….”why is everything in a public bathroom always wet?”) I will take the opportunity to make just one comment. What’s the deal with people feeling the need to write on bathroom stalls? All the would be DaVinci’s out there look at bathroom stalls as their personal sketch books taking the opportunity to comment and even illustrate the variety of pleasures afforded to you should you choose to partake. Seriously does anyone EVER all those numbers…seriously? And I don’t know about you, but when I go to the bathroom, I go to go to the bathroom. I’m not looking for an opportunity to kill some free time. I go in to do what I’m there to do, and then I get out. How long are these people hanging out in there???!!
And now for my final thoughts. The Dixie Chicks could have written their song Wide Open Spaces after being inspired by the beautiful vistas of Northern Arizona. There are times when you can stand and look for miles in any direction and see only the rolling desert hills dotted with the occasional Ponderosa pine and maybe a heard of antelope leisurely grazing in the distance. This would lead one to believe that space is abundant in this magnificent state. It is, UNTIL you get to the restrooms at the Grand Canyon. (For a little geography lesson, and some perspective – at it’s widest points, the Grand Canyon is +-19 miles long and +-1 mile wide….not exactly a small ditch.) So why in the world would you make the restrooms at one of America’s Greatest National Treasurers really, really, ridiculously small? **Disclaimer** I’m about to get a bit graphic right here so young children and those with weak stomachs may wish to discontinue reading….
Unfortunately I don’t have a picture to accompany this post, so I do hope that my words can do this experience justice. OK, here goes.
So that time of day arrives where I needed to “take care of some business.” Erica and I have been extremely cost-conscience on this trip, packing lunches and snacks to avoid the above mentioned overpriced tourist traps. So I am carrying around my back pack, stuffed with goodies for the day. Not a heavy load, but big and bulky. So, first – I follow the cryptically marked trail around to the men’s room. (I mean come on people – after a 2:15 minute train ride up to the Grand Canyon, people are obviously going to have to go to the restroom – so let’s hide it and make people wander around cross-legged hoping up and down trying to find this place – but I digress)
When I had finally located the facilities (and I use that word loosely) I need to take advantage of the stall option. My first clue that this was going to be a challenge was when I went to close the stall door and it wouldn’t close because it couldn’t get past the toilet bowl. I looked down to notice that the door was SO CLOSE to the toilet that a notch had been cut INTO the door to allow it to swing closed past the porcelain throne. HOWEVER (COMMA SPACE) you couldn’t have the seat down and close the door. So backpack still on, I had to shimmy to the side of the toilet, lift the seat and then was able to close the door. Now if you’re not getting the picture of exactly how small this space was, let me just say that in order for me to be in the stall (with the door finally closed) and the backpack on, I have to stand straddling the toilet seat. OK, I can do this.
So I take off the backpack to give myself a little more room, then carefully (not wanting to touch ANYTHING in this bacteria breeding zone) am able to complete the task for which I initially entered. I’ll spare you all of the other details, but just know that a lack of space (and having to hold my backpack on my lap) made ALL aspects of the experience difficult.
So I finally make it through, again straddle the toilet to get the door back open..all I want to do is wash my hands. DIAL soap. Thank goodness – ANTIBACTERIAL. However, in keeping with the really, really ridiculously small theme – the faucets for the sink were places SO CLOSE to the wall of the sink, that you couldn’t get your hand underneath the trickling stream of freezing well water. All in all I left feeling like Gulliver in the land of small people.
Well, as you can tell by the title of this entry, I’m going to spend a few minutes discussing some of the bathroom situations we’ve found ourselves in during the last 10 days. We’ll call it the GOOD, the BAD and the really, really, ridiculously SMALL. First, we’ll start with some of the winners.
By far the state of Texas wins for it’s Busch Gardens-like rest stop. The Lone Star state knows how to BRING IT when it comes to making it’s visitors feel welcome. We’re talking a 2-story, wi-fi hotspot complete with interactive history kiosks disguised as wagon trains and saloons. These entertaining features were only to be upstaged by the on-site sheriff and working water tower. And wait, we haven’t even gotten to the bathroom yet. IMMACULATE. Cleaner than many restaurants I’ve been in. Fantastic granite counter tops, and tons of space – perfect for entertaining [can you tell I’ve been doing some real estate work? ☺] (Erica was particularly fond of the 2-ply, quilted toilet tissue.) All in all our BEST overall bathroom stop of the trip. As they say – you don’t mess with Texas.
Missouri really did “SHOW ME” when it came to technological breakthroughs in restroom features. It was the most fascinating devices that I’ve encountered in a bathroom in my 30 years of life on this planet. It was an ALL-IN-ONE soap dispenser, faucet and hand drying device. You place your hands into this hole and 2 drops of antibacterial soap are perfectly deposited in the palm of your hand (not quite as much soap as I personally prefer, but enough to get the job done). Then an automatic stream of warm water begins to run, allowing you to work the soap into a nice lather. Rinse and THEN - the automatic hand dryer begins to blow, actually blowing WARM air onto your hands. (Although I would have expected to see this in West Virginia given the NUMEROUS Technology Corridor signs we kept seeing – I was very much impressed with the Jeston-like technology that I went back 3 times before leaving. ☺)
Now, on to the ugly. A vast majority of our rest stop experiences fall into this category. (If you haven’t heard Dane Cook’s bit on public bathrooms – you need to. It pretty much sums it up….”why is everything in a public bathroom always wet?”) I will take the opportunity to make just one comment. What’s the deal with people feeling the need to write on bathroom stalls? All the would be DaVinci’s out there look at bathroom stalls as their personal sketch books taking the opportunity to comment and even illustrate the variety of pleasures afforded to you should you choose to partake. Seriously does anyone EVER all those numbers…seriously? And I don’t know about you, but when I go to the bathroom, I go to go to the bathroom. I’m not looking for an opportunity to kill some free time. I go in to do what I’m there to do, and then I get out. How long are these people hanging out in there???!!
And now for my final thoughts. The Dixie Chicks could have written their song Wide Open Spaces after being inspired by the beautiful vistas of Northern Arizona. There are times when you can stand and look for miles in any direction and see only the rolling desert hills dotted with the occasional Ponderosa pine and maybe a heard of antelope leisurely grazing in the distance. This would lead one to believe that space is abundant in this magnificent state. It is, UNTIL you get to the restrooms at the Grand Canyon. (For a little geography lesson, and some perspective – at it’s widest points, the Grand Canyon is +-19 miles long and +-1 mile wide….not exactly a small ditch.) So why in the world would you make the restrooms at one of America’s Greatest National Treasurers really, really, ridiculously small? **Disclaimer** I’m about to get a bit graphic right here so young children and those with weak stomachs may wish to discontinue reading….
Unfortunately I don’t have a picture to accompany this post, so I do hope that my words can do this experience justice. OK, here goes.
So that time of day arrives where I needed to “take care of some business.” Erica and I have been extremely cost-conscience on this trip, packing lunches and snacks to avoid the above mentioned overpriced tourist traps. So I am carrying around my back pack, stuffed with goodies for the day. Not a heavy load, but big and bulky. So, first – I follow the cryptically marked trail around to the men’s room. (I mean come on people – after a 2:15 minute train ride up to the Grand Canyon, people are obviously going to have to go to the restroom – so let’s hide it and make people wander around cross-legged hoping up and down trying to find this place – but I digress)
When I had finally located the facilities (and I use that word loosely) I need to take advantage of the stall option. My first clue that this was going to be a challenge was when I went to close the stall door and it wouldn’t close because it couldn’t get past the toilet bowl. I looked down to notice that the door was SO CLOSE to the toilet that a notch had been cut INTO the door to allow it to swing closed past the porcelain throne. HOWEVER (COMMA SPACE) you couldn’t have the seat down and close the door. So backpack still on, I had to shimmy to the side of the toilet, lift the seat and then was able to close the door. Now if you’re not getting the picture of exactly how small this space was, let me just say that in order for me to be in the stall (with the door finally closed) and the backpack on, I have to stand straddling the toilet seat. OK, I can do this.
So I take off the backpack to give myself a little more room, then carefully (not wanting to touch ANYTHING in this bacteria breeding zone) am able to complete the task for which I initially entered. I’ll spare you all of the other details, but just know that a lack of space (and having to hold my backpack on my lap) made ALL aspects of the experience difficult.
So I finally make it through, again straddle the toilet to get the door back open..all I want to do is wash my hands. DIAL soap. Thank goodness – ANTIBACTERIAL. However, in keeping with the really, really ridiculously small theme – the faucets for the sink were places SO CLOSE to the wall of the sink, that you couldn’t get your hand underneath the trickling stream of freezing well water. All in all I left feeling like Gulliver in the land of small people.
posted by The Caskey's at 7:46 PM
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