Toiletiquette in the Information Age

(Note: the following article contains references to bodily functions that are not generally topics of discussion in polite company. Since what follows is neither a Nickelodeon cartoon nor a Jack Black movie, the offending references have been removed. Instead, these references have been replaced by inoffensive, innocuous banking terms, which, considering the current financial crisis, are actually quite fitting.)

I was out shopping the other day when nature called. Nature’s funny like that; never writes, leaves a message, updates Twitter or Facebook status, but nature still calls. In this case, nature was calling to tell me that last night’s dinner was exhibiting signs of accelerated depreciation, and that if I wasn’t able to make a balance transfer soon my account would be susceptible to severe overdraft penalties. Luckily the store had a facility to handle transactions of this nature, and it was within slow, stiff-legged walking distance.

I managed to make it to an available stall before my backup withholding became a short-term credit liability. But as I was about to leave the repository, I noticed something peculiar: strange sounds coming from the stall beside me.

The sounds I heard weren’t the typical bathroom renditions of the trombone sonata or deflating wet balloon noises that a person might associate with a trip to the public toilet. These were different sounds. Unnatural (not that “natural” is a term I’d use to describe any typical bathroom sound), clicking, beeping, electronic sounds. This led me to three possible conclusions:

- The occupant in the stall beside me was a robot.

- The occupant in the stall beside me was trying to pass a robot (or make an electronic deposit, to keep with the theme of banking terms).

- The occupant in the stall beside me was committing the sin of toilet texting.

I’m not one who generally takes a stand on important issues, but toilet texting needs to be stopped. It’s not only a gross misappropriated use of an electronic device, it’s just plain gross. Think about it: you’re engaged in an activity that requires the use of at least one hand (two handers, after all, are the stuff of legends) and now you’re going to partake in another activity requiring the use of another hand, potentially the same hand depending on which wall the toilet paper roll is attached. And then, upon exiting the stall, you’re going to put that phone up next to your face. You could save yourself some time and just rub your ear against the toilet seat.

All together now: Ewwwwwww.

I do understand why people bring their phones, iPods and other personal electronic devices into the stall with them. It gives them something to do to take their minds off these required visits to the Federal Reserve Board (I realize that one doesn’t quite work; just keep going). It’s why some households have magazine racks in the bathroom, or at the very least a shampoo bottle within reaching distance so you can idly read the label (do the words sodium laurel sulfate ring a bell? Thought so.)

Getting back to the guy in the neighboring stall, what could have been so important that he needed to send out a text message while ankle deep in pants on the commode? Was he relaying national secrets? Advice about an important client at work? Perhaps, but it was probably something like this:

Guess wat Im doing rite now? Hurr hurr!

Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but there are certain private activities that need to remain private, and the process of relinquishing floating debt is one of them. A bathroom stall is no place for casual conversation, whether it take place via voice over the phone or in text message format.

If you think toilet texting isn’t a national problem, consider this: one of President Obama’s first acts after entering office was winning his fight to keep his coveted Blackberry handheld device. Considering his self professed addiction to his handheld, it’s highly probable that President Obama has already sent out a few emails urging Congressional members to pass his economic stimulus package while seated on the Oval throne in the Oval Office bathroom.

In light of our current financial epidemic, the fact that our President might be toilet texting really isn’t that big of a deal. But, considering Congress’s track record for solving financial crises, we should be more concerned about the dozens of replies the President receives to his email from members of Congress that are worded something like this:

Guess wat Im doing rite now? Hurr hurr!