Holey Power Swirlie, Batman!

Restrooms with automatic everything drive me nuts.

Some appliances with motion sensors are too sensitive. You walk into the restroom even remotely near the sink and water dutifully runs, ready for your every hygienic need. Or a mosquito flies by, and two feet of paper towel shoot out at you with no warning whatsoever.

Some are not sensitive enough. You can wave your hands in the air like you just don’t cay-uh for five months, but you aren’t going to get any paper towel. You’re just going to look like a lunatic or a moron. Especially when you get frustrated and start talking to the damn thing. I’ve found, oddly enough, that stubborn motion sensor paper towel dispensers aren’t apt to negotiate.

But the worst offender in the automatic appliance catagory has to be automatic flushers. I don’t like them. No, I mean it, I really hate them. At first thought, you might consider that they make the restroom more clean, because they take care of something that many more idiots than you might think actually forget to do. But. (I said butt. *snorts*) I wear big girl panties now; I can decide for myself when I’m done, thankyouverymuch.

A few days ago, I was at work and nature yodeled. I went to the restroom and into the stall, then unbutton/zip. Just as I was about to sit down, like one inch from the seat, the flusher did its job. And it didn’t just flush; it went off like it was powered by a jet engine. It suddenly started up with a hee-yuge WHOOOOSH and the water spun so forcefully, some of it shot up in the air like a bidet. It startled me so bad, well, let’s just say, thank God I was where I was.

I think I have what will be the first documented case of toilet-induced PTSD. Because now, on the way to the restroom, I have flashbacks to that traumatic moment when that toilet literally scared the pee out of me. And every time I start to sit down, I brace myself for the WHOOOOSH and shot of cold water on my lady bits, and I’m always suprised when it actually doesn’t happen.

I may be scarred for life.

I wonder if the company would pay for my therapy.

4 thoughts on “Holey Power Swirlie, Batman!

  1. HAHAHAAAAA- OMG I have so been there and done that!

    By the by- a pad of post it notes in the purse is handy for sticking over the overly-sensative flush sensor. There is a method to my madness you know!

  2. I hate to tell you but my niece is the first documented case of toiled-induced PSTD. It happened to her when she was 5 and it was one of those LOUD ones…when they first came out. It scared the crap out of her..figuratively.

    She refused to use ANY toilet away from home again, even at school. She’d hold it ALLLLLL day, even pee! Bless her heart. My sister had to talk to the school counselor and everything about it.

    And I hate it when it splashes my lady bits. If I’m gonna have a wet feeling down there, then I better get some kind of O out of it.

  3. On the matter of toilet-induced PTSD, I submit my sister, who always hated the sound of the toilet flushing. She’d do everything until the last thing left was to flush the toilet, which she’d then do, escaping promptly out of the bathroom. Something we always teased her about, right?

    So fast foward to, uh, 1989 when she and I went travelling through France for a few weeks. We were visiting some cathedral or other, when she comes out white as a sheet. Turns out in France, they have (or used to have) some public bathroom stalls that are basically boxes with a hole in the floor. (Yes. Really.) So here she is, dealing gamely with this because after all, travelling is An Adventure, when it turns out these boxes flush automatically every ten minutes or something like that. So here she is, mid stoop, seeing the water coming down the walls — she got out of there like a bat out of hell…

    I laughed and laughed and laughed (hey, older sister privs), but truth to tell, that would have given me PTSD, too 😛

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