Splash Dance

I was just about to wrap things up when it happened; the automatic flush. My face scrunched with disappointment. As expected, the back-splash from the forceful disposal met me halfway. Why couldn’t it have waited? Isn’t that what it’s supposed to do? Wait until you part ways with its structure?!

After practically jumping off the toilet to avoid another drizzling that was sure to follow in the footsteps of flushing, several thoughts swam through my head. How sanitary is the automatic flush, really? Is it actually better than the manual flush if the bum gets splattered by the force of a flush so powerful it could swallow the contents of Mary Poppins’ bottomless bag?

With sustainability making its way into the world today, I considered the possibility that an automatic-flush toilet saves water. But then I remembered that the toilet decided to flush three times during my brief visit; once when I entered the stall, once before I was ready to throw in the towel (so to speak), and once when I actually rose from the occasion.

Just as I became certain that the automatic-flush toilet was not an improvement over its manual predecessor, I remembered the dance. This is the activity that takes place when the task is complete, but the porcelain gatekeeper won’t let your friend(s) through. And since you can’t very well leave without wishing them a proper farewell, you attempt to activate the gatekeeper.

A few waves of the hand, shortly followed by some up-and-down movement…all behind closed doors…and you are on your way. It’s only a matter of minutes before you join the likes of John Travolta and Ginger Rogers. Before you know it, you have secretly vowed to execute the splits if that will make the damn toilet flush. Suddenly, you have become prisoner in a public restroom stall.

In conclusion, I am not sold on the automatic-flush toilet. If anyone thinks otherwise, speak now or forever hold your pee..ace.