The Day I Declared War on Restroom Etiquette

It all started with a sneeze. A particularly violent one, the kind that makes your eyes water and leaves you feeling like you’ve just survived a minor explosion. I was at a fancy restaurant, the kind with cloth napkins and dim lighting, desperately trying to muffle the blast in the confines of a single-occupancy restroom stall.

As I emerged, slightly disheveled and dabbing at my nose with a crumpled tissue, I noticed her. A woman, impeccably dressed, staring at me with an expression of utter horror. I mean, it was the kind of look usually reserved for witnessing a crime against humanity, not a poorly timed sneeze. It was then I realized, I had committed the ultimate faux pas: making a sound in the sacred silence of the public restroom.

That’s when I snapped. “Enough!” I declared to the startled woman (and, let’s be honest, myself). “No more tiptoeing around these ridiculous, unspoken rules!” From that day forward, I vowed to live my truth, even if it meant forever being “that person” in the bathroom.

The Great Stall Selection Standoff

Let’s talk stall selection, shall we? There’s an art to it, a delicate dance we all perform in the name of… well, I’m not really sure what. Personal space? Avoiding awkward eye contact? Whatever it is, the rules are clear:

• Thou shalt not choose the stall directly next to another occupied stall unless absolutely necessary.
• Thou shalt always gravitate towards the stall furthest from the door, even if it means trekking halfway across the room.
• And, heaven forbid, thou shalt never, EVER, acknowledge the existence of another human being while occupying said stall.

I, my friends, am a proud rule-breaker. I choose my stall based on two factors: cleanliness and proximity to the hand dryer. If that means I’m sandwiched between two strangers, so be it. We’re all there for the same reason, let’s not pretend otherwise. And if someone dares to make eye contact while washing their hands? I offer a friendly smile and a cheerful, “How’s it going?” The horror on their faces is almost comical. Almost.

The Conversation Conundrum

Here’s another unwritten rule: Conversations in public restrooms are strictly prohibited. Unless, of course, it’s the obligatory, “Oh, I love your shoes!” exchange between strangers who will never speak again. Anything beyond that is considered taboo.