Each year, the Nobel Prize is given out to persons who have made a huge impact on the world. I have noticed that the science awards tend to go to those who dabble in specialties such as quantum physics, organic chemistry or molecular biology. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying these learned and esteemed scientists do not deserve the mega-million dollar prize purse, but I think the “committee” has overlooked someone who has truly made not only my life better but the lives of thousands of germaphobes better. I believe a special Nobel Prize should go to the guy who invented the automatic flush toilet.
I am serious about this as I have a great deal of experience with public bathrooms. We travel up and down the east coast to visit family all year long. Through the years of this highway travel, I have gagged at many of the women’s bathrooms at the rest stops that dot the American landscape. My husband has his fair share of men’s room stories, but being that I usually do not use those facilities, I can only comment on what I have experienced. No matter what state we found ourselves in, the scene was and is always the same.
The first thing a woman notices when entering a public bathroom is the yellow cone bearing both the English and Spanish translation of the words “Caution, wet floor” that always sits in the middle of the stall aisle. Do people who use public bathrooms only speak English and Spanish? What about those women who do not speak either language? Do they get to slip and fall on the germ-filled floor because they don’t understand the words on the cone?
Those women, who can read the cone, tiptoe around it and make their way to the bathroom stalls. Then, they gingerly push in each door in hopes of finding a stall with a clean toilet. It is like a scene from a horror movie where the stupid college chick starts to go into the room where she just heard all the strange noises. She does not want to go in, but something is drawing her to that door. So, she carefully pushes it open even though she does not know what waits for her on the other side. In a public bathroom, we pretty much know what’s waiting for us on the other side of that door. Allow me to say that I don’t understand how in a country which is filled with so many potty-trained adults, there can be so many women who can’t aim into the toilet. I know it’s hard to squat, but really, it’s not that difficult a task.
Let me get back to the point of this whole thing. About 10 years ago, I started to notice the arrival of automatic-flush toilets in the public rest stops.
“This is interesting” I thought when I first noticed the no-hands flush system. I was a little unsure of the little red light attached to the toilet. I figured it was a sensor that told the toilet when I was done, but the paranoid person inside of me had to wonder if a camera was attached. Once I realized, that no one was filming my activities, (well, maybe with the exception of a few rest stops on the New Jersey Turnpike), I relaxed. I really liked that I did not have to touch anything near that toilet.
Then, the automatic bathroom people came up with the automatic sinks. These were good too, but I never met a sink that acted consistently. Sometimes, I can wave my hands under the sink once and water just flows out. Other times, I could wave my hands, my arms or even a magic wand and no water comes out. The same is true for the automatic soap dispensers and the newest addition to the public bathroom, the automatic towel holder. There are times when I have so much arm action going on in one bathroom visit that I actually get a full aerobics workout. Just trying to persuade a towel out of the automatic dispenser can burn up to 300 calories alone, and then the whole germ-free advantage is lost because I have to use my wet hands to pry the towels out of the dispenser manually.
Sarcasm aside, I truly appreciate the no-touch technology in the public bathrooms, but I do have one suggestion for rest stops, stores, restaurants or anyone else with the automatic devices. Be consistent. If you have an automatic toilet, have an automatic towel dispenser and an automatic soap dispenser. If you mix and match automatic and manual, you confuse people.
I was having breakfast with my friend, Ginny, a few days ago. After drinking several cups of coffee and a diet coke, she had to use the ladies room. Five minutes went by, and she didn’t come back. At the 10-minute mark, I was going to see if she fell in, but before I got to the bathroom door she emerged – frustrated but alive. It seems she had been stymied by the bathroom fixtures.
Before you judge Ginny, please note that she holds an MBA and runs her own PR company, so she is no slouch in the intelligence department. As it turns out, the toilet was automatic, but she was unsure about the soap, sink or towel dispenser. After waving her arms at the soap, she realized she had to manually push on a lever to get soap out. The sink which was automatic, looked like it had a push button next to it. It took her a few seconds to realize that unless she waved her hands under the faucet, she was not rinsing the soap off. Then, she ran into the towel dispenser. It had a sensor, but no towel emerged when she ran her hands in front of the red eye. After five or six firm waves, she gave up and yanked a towel out.
My final word on automatic bathroom fixtures: We women take a long time as it is in the bathroom. Make our public bathroom treks a little more user-friendly and tell us what is automatic and what is not. Post a sign and tell us if we should flush or not flush, turn on the faucet or wave our hands underneath it, or dance in front of the towel dispenser or pull one out manually. A little direction can go a long way to a positive potty experience.