#70: No Hovering

Dear Marge,

I realize that, in the 396 public bathrooms I’ve visited in the past week on the road, someone else might have been the culprit. But the fact is, the only one I really suspect is you.

I know your mom told you that sitting on the seat of a public toilet could give you a disease. Mommy watched to make sure you hovered over the toilet without letting anything touch anything. Ever since, you’ve found it impossible to allow yourself to actually sit down on a public toilet, so instead you pee half-standing up.

But your aging thighs aren’t up to holding you steady, so guess what, Marge: You sprinkle the seat. You flush and leave and when I enter the stall, there is your pee left all over for ME to sit in. Or clean up. Maybe you feel all clean and smug and satisfied because YOU avoided sitting on the public toilet seat. But did you ever stop to think about what you’re doing to me?

I’m going to stop now and do some deep breathing, but if you want to read more on the evils of hovering, see the even-funnier material in Jill Soloway’s brilliant and underappreciated Tiny Ladies in Shiny Pants.


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