NORMAN — Your workday is at the halfway mark. You and your co-workers gather for lunch. Ready to relax. One would assume the conversation would be light. Ha. There you go assuming again.
If you were invisible and could eavesdrop on folks as they chat during lunch, you would discover that conversations take curious twists and turns. Everything from the mundane (complaints about work or whatever happens to be someone’s “gripe du jour”) to the I-can’t-believe-we-are-discussing-this-while-we-are-trying-to-eat.
Sometime, the discussion is about restrooms. In fact, public restrooms are known to be a hot topic of conversation, littered with personal tales and complaints.
For example, some people would prefer to only use the facilities in their own homes because they know or are related to the posteriors who use them. However, they are uncomfortable sharing the throne with “strangers.”
Unlike the turtle, who carries his home on his back, we cannot conveniently pack our personal thrones in a backpack, ready to set up when the need arises. Consequently and to no one’s surprise, cleanliness or lack thereof is often at the top of everyone’s list of complaints. But there are a few complaints that do not fit the usual mold.
After intense scientific research (read that to mean listening carefully to restroom related conversations) the following tidbits have come to light.
When faced with the choice of five or six stalls, some prefer to enter the first stall (because it is convenient or it becomes a perverse status symbol for being number one at something). Some gravitate to the furthest one from the entrance (so they can take a quick cat nap). While others play eeny-meeny-miny-moe and may end up right next door to an individual who has space issues, as in invasion of space.
Granted, no one likes to share such personal moments with an audience, but the impractical alternative would be to wait until the room is completely empty. Then when that rare moment arises, a person with invasion of space or shyness issues can either lock or bar the entrance and enjoy complete privacy. Simple, right?
Not so fast. Most public restrooms do not have locks on the entry door. Even though the individual doors do, the restroom poltergeists delight in popping the “locked” doors open “in medias res” (as the ancient Romans would define such a moment), just when someone walks by. Quite awkward, and definitely not a Kodak moment.
Moving the conversation right along and while one member of the group was still eating, the conversation turned to the appearance of neglected swimming pools.
When left to its own devices, the crystal clear water in a swimming pool without the regular infusion of chlorine and the frequent removal of debris will become murky. Then algae makes its green appearance. Which one member of the group described as the green spew in The Exorcist.
(“How’s your appetite holding up, dearie?” We ask as the diner puts down her silverware and politely gags.)
One member of the group told the tale of living near a vacant house and its neglected pool. The long-suffering neighbors tolerated the teenagers diving off the roof of the house into the pool during the middle of the night. But when the mosquitoes moved in and made the pool their home, one of the neighbors dumped a case of car oil into the pool, turning the water a lovely shade of black.
It was interesting to watch the people’s faces as the deteriorating condition of the pool was described. Each member of the group voiced her disgust when the tale reached her personal gross tolerance level. Some succumbed quite early into the description, while others proved to be less squeamish.
Could the warning “Caveat emptor” be applied to conversations as well as purchases?
Elizabeth Cowan is a freelance writer and former Norman resident. E-mail her at elizabeth@elizabethcowan.com.
