There are certain situations in life which seem to have an unwritten code of conduct. Business meetings, weddings, funerals and pretty much any event involving a church- from picnics to bingo; craft sales to youth groups. A person generally knows when to sit, when to stand, when to speak and when to stay quiet and it is fairly well known, although never stated out loud, that food is frowned upon when meeting with the CEO, board of directors, rabbi or priest. And although a latte would be very much appreciated in many of these situations it’ll be a cold day down under before you find a Starbucks in your local synagogue any time soon, which would actually be perfect timing, given the temperature required for that to happen.

And while we know it is a faux pas to chew gum during mass, wear jean shorts to nuptials and bring beer to your annual meeting there seems to remain one social situation which continues to baffle and bewilder and for which there appears to be no code of conduct at all. And this social situation, above all social situations, is the one that probably should have rules and regulations, laws and legislation. It is my arch-rival. It is my nemesis. It is my Achilles heel. And if I leave but one legacy on this earth let it be this: to define the unwritten rules for the social situation that is… the public washroom.

I have never fully understood the statistics behind the fact that that despite the number of females (or lack thereof) where I work, or the time of day there is always (and I do mean ALWAYS) someone in the bathroom when I need to use the facilities. Bell curves and Fourier Transforms aside, I’ve become accustomed to this fact and feel I have adjusted well. I’ve overcome potty shyness and have made do (pardon the pun), priding myself on being a considerate pottsman. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for everyone else.

It’s not just work, either. It’s every public washroom in every office, restaurant and concert hall, in every town, city or outhouse on every corner of the Earth. There is a lack of etiquette, couth and respect for fellow bathroom goers and I feel it is my duty (sorry, I couldn’t resist) to rectify the situation. And, so, I present to you the following Rules of Engagement:

1. If I am in a stall and you are in a stall, please do not talk to me. I do not want to make idle chitchat. I know very well what you’re doing and discussing work related (or, even worse, personal) items does not make this encounter any less uncomfortable.

2. Please do not wait for me to vacate my stall. I do not want to ‘hang out’ with you in the bathroom. This is not a social situation and it is most definitely not a potty parade. Chances are I am hiding in my stall until you leave, solely for the purpose of avoiding you, so unless you have lip-gloss; gum; lotion; or a hot, single 33-year-old man in your purse please take the hint and leave the bathroom immediately.

3. Please, please, PLEASE do NOT comment on what you are doing. Seriously.

4. Seriously.

5. If the bathroom is out of soap simply bring it to someone’s attention, discretely, and more soap will be provided. Under NO circumstances should you send a mass email announcing the urgency of the situation. I’m fairly confident it’s not an act of discrimination, it wasn’t done intentionally and, unless you work in the food industry, the Occupational Health and Safety committee really doesn’t care. The only thing such email correspondence does is point out the fact you did not wash your hands. I assure you the CEO does not view this as a credit to your character.

6. Please do not remove your shoes in the bathroom. That’s gross. I don’t care if your feet don’t touch the floor when you’re on the throne, I really don’t want to see you swinging your shoeless appendages like you’re on some ride at the fair. It’s a toilet, not a swing.

7. If you are going to blow your nose while you are ‘busy’ please don’t do it mid-stream. It does not take a rocket scientist (or Physicist) to deduce that this is a sure-fire (pardon the pun) way to guarantee a fart. There is only so long I can hold my breath (and laughter) and you’re really trying my patience.

8. Do the math. If there are 5 women, 2 stalls and 8 hours during the day surely we can work out some sort of schedule such that we never meet in the bathroom. If I’m in there and you walk in please just turn around and leave. I promise I won’t be offended. In fact, I will be grateful. I promise.

9. Please don’t ask my identity on the basis of my shoes. The very fact you lower your head that close to the bathroom floor to sneak a peek at my attire is very disturbing. Given the fact that I can hear the toilets flush from down the hall, I’m pretty sure everyone in the vicinity can hear you yell my name. The acoustics at the Grand Canyon don’t stand a chance against the echoes of a tiled bathroom, please use discretion accordingly.

10. Yes, it’s ‘very’ funny that we only ever see each other in the bathroom. Please try not to enjoy it or comment on it so much. In fact, let’s just declare bathroom time ‘quiet time’. Seriously. My mom says I shouldn’t hold my pee and you’re really making it extremely difficult to maintain good bladder health.

11. Lastly… I should never, ever walk into the bathroom and see your feet pointing the wrong way. Blow your nose, adjust your hose, see where it goes… but please do so facing forward. I take no responsibility for any rumors that may otherwise unfold.

If you have any questions regarding this matter, please see me… as long as it’s not in the loo.

Kristel is a Physicist, computer programmer and blogger, writing about everything from depression to dating… and sometimes even both! She lives in Saskatchewan, Canada and can be contacted at LastGrlStanding@gmail.com

Photo Credit © Tom Dowd | Dreamstime.com