Restroom Upgrade?

Can I go pee, please?

I would like to weigh in on the so-called Gender Bathroom Controversy. I think it has been blown way out of proportion! Let’s get serious just for a minute, okay?  Does it really matter which bathroom a human being uses?  I don’t know about you, but when you gotta go, you gotta go! And any port in a storm will do!

After communicating with Spock (he is that logical alien), you know, with the pointed ears and extremely intelligent brain! We had a long, logical conversation about this and many other things I will talk about later. We came to the same conclusion, why is it any of your business where I or anyone else pees or poops! 

If you decide to use the women’s bathroom, you will find that there are no urinals! At least not yet! Suppose a man dressed as a woman goes into the “Ladies Rest Room to do his thing. In that case, he will quickly see that his usual mode of elimination, i.e., urinal, is not present.  If he is a reasonably intelligent human, depending on his urgency, he will do one of two things.  He will leave and search for a room that has the facilities that he desires.  Of course, he might have to endure the astonished stares of the manly men and possibly get tossed out on his ass. 

Or, being a girly girl, will use the stall just like other women.  Of course, he could pee in the sink, but most men are a little shy about whipping their tallywacker out in front of women.  Actually, I have been told that some manly men are shy about that around other men! Here’s a cheery thought!  How would you know how they are peeing?  Unless you are peeking over or under the stall, you would not know if they have a tallywacker or not. 

Men’s bathrooms usually have urinals and cubicles, unlike the ladies’ rooms, which have stalls, and never enough of them! There are the same number of stalls in the men’s and women’s rooms.  A woman dressed as a man doesn’t have the “equipment” to use the urinal; they will have to go into a stall.  You would not know if they have a tallywacker or not unless you are a  strange Duck and peek over or under the stall.

Personally, my dears, I don’t give a damn which one you use; as long as you wash your hands, don’t peek at me, and for heaven’s sakes, be so kind, and unlike at home, please put the damn seat down.

If the upshot of this is that more stalls will be built in the women’s bathrooms to accommodate transgender urinators!  I see that as a necessary innovation because the long lines waiting for a stall are infuriating, and in some cases, necessary or too late!  Are you aware that there is the same number of cubicles in men’s bathrooms as in women’s bathrooms?  As unfair as that is, more stalls in women’s bathrooms would be a good thing. 

Imagine a world where you do not have to explain to anyone where or how you do your business because it really is nobody’s business!

It would be wonderful if there were enough facilities so that oblivious men could stop complaining, “What took you so long?” to their wives when they don’t seem to, or try to understand that the women’s restrooms need to be upgraded to match the efficiency of the men’s restrooms!

This was written just for the fun of it! Don’t take offense, just laugh a little. We all need a laugh right now!

You will find my books on my website http://www.brendacolbathbooks.com, or your favorite site in eBooks and Paperbacks.

Thanks for listening and will see you later…..

Published by Time Traveler of Life

Biography Creating worlds, characters, and wielding power like a madwoman, making my characters happy, sad, angry, and some of them with no redeeming qualities. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I sometimes laugh out loud when I am writing a scene, and I have been known to cry when one of my favorites has to die. I am a left-handed Gemini, what do you expect? Reading bedtime stories to my two children until they fell asleep or until they just told me to go away, was fun. Making up wild stories for my grandchild, and creating Halloween costumes from Cowboys to a Dragon, was another favorite thing to do. I missed that so much when they were grown, that I started writing. My yearly newsletters frequently were drafted third-person by my Love Birds, Miranda our motorhome, and by Sir Fit the White Knight, our faithful Honda. Throughout the years, some of my creative talents centered around writing letters of complaint expressing my displeasure with services or products. One crucial, at least to my Son, was a note to our local school bus driver petitioning her to allow him back on the bus. He was kicked off for making an obscene gesture at his buddy. I reminded her that it was not directed at her, and that “obscenity can be in the eye of the beholder,” kids use that gesture as a greeting. He rode the bus until he graduated. I loved driving my English teacher crazy. Leaving a “continued next week” at the end of my five handwritten pages required each week. He was one of many people that suggested I “do something about my writing.” I graduated from the School of Hard Knocks at the top of my class. After 30 years, in the trenches as a Real Estate Professional, I have found that truth is stranger than fiction. My books are filled with characters I met in that profession. Their names were changed to protect the guilty. Others were from people we met traveling around the country in Miranda, our Motorhome. I am married nearly 60 years to the love of my life, Shirl, and partner-produced two exceptionally talented children, and one grandchild who is our pride and joy.

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