C’mon man, how hard is it to use your foot to kick up the goddamn toilet seat? What does it take to do the right thing, a whole second?
And women, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing while in the ladies’ room, but whatever it is, it’s fucking gross. I’ve been in your bathrooms and I have to ask, how did pee get on your seats? Even if you’re squatting, how bad is your aim? Just center yourself for Christ’s sake and then let it flow like the Mississippi. Wait, is that a pee-puddle in the corner? And what’s that smeared on the wall?
I’ve been around the block a few times, but maybe there’s something about your anatomy I’ve yet to understand. If so, keep it to yourself. I’m too skeeved at this point to want to know.
Why have I been in your bathrooms? Do you think I’m really going to wait for that homeless guy to get out of the men’s room at Starbucks? He’s been in there for like, an hour already, and the lady’s room is perfectly vacant. Oh, and by the way, I live for the dirty looks the old, stuck-up women give me when I leave “their” bathroom. Keep ‘em coming.
At least I didn’t pee on your seats. And yes, I put the seat back down when I’m done doing my thing. I even wipe the sink with a paper towel when I finish washing my hands. Furthermore, believe it or not, I actually make use of the garbage can instead of thoughtlessly tossing the soiled paper towel on the floor like a rich kid at a country club. I’m sorry folks, but in this case, “close enough” just doesn’t cut it.
Why do I bother with all of this if no one else seems to care?
Before I answer, allow me first to run this scenario by you:
Have you ever been to, let’s say a Mexican restaurant. The dinner is going fine, you’re cramming nachos down your throat like you’re trying to medal in it, and two tequilas and a burrito later, Mother Nature takes over. You feel a revolution brewing in your belly and you’re forced to tighten all muscles in your nether regions in efforts of avoiding an accident at the table.
What happens next?
You make a mad dash for the lavatory like you need to flush the coke before the Feds find it like Karen in Goodfellas.
Your bowels have reached critical mass. You can almost feel it in your throat. But alas, some heartless heathen has peed all over the toilet seat.
Looking up into the heavens, you scream, “God, why have you forsaken me?”
I’ve been there, more than once, and that’s why I’m like the Tidy Bowl Man in public restrooms. If I can prevent suffering of another, why wouldn’t I?
It’s like what Hillel said hundreds of years ago, “If not me, than who?”
No pun intended, but while peeing, just like with everything else in life, the Golden Rule applies. Treat others as you’d like to be treated.
Imagine if people polluted the planet to the point of weather patterns changing? Imagine if corporate greed destroyed families with illness and poverty just so a few selfish fat cats can get fatter? Imagine if a genocide was allowed to happen? Imagine if poverty isn’t prevented? Imagine if over-population isn’t dealt with? Imagine the results of racism, sexism and homophobia?
Imagine a world where, for the most part, people act as if we’re not all connected and only look out for themselves?
Where will we end up?
Exactly where we are – at the brink of extinction.
However, we don’t have to go the way of the dodo bird or dinosaur. We can save our species by simply loving our neighbor as we love ourselves.
If you knew in advance that you were going to be the next person to use the restroom, would you pee on the toilet seat now?
Of course not. You’d use your foot to kick the seat up.
The truth is, you are the next person.
We’re all connected.
And this isn’t just some spiritual crap you’d read in a new age book. It’s scientific fact.
You don’t believe me? As my dad would say, look it up.
Read a free sample of my new book: Where Is God When Our Loved Ones Get Sick? The Question That Haunts Us And The Answer That Helps Us Heal