Yes. That is a picture I took of a toilet. Actually, there are way more photos of toilets on my cell phone than I am comfortable with because I find it amusing to take photos of the random stuff Scarlette throws in the toilet and then text them to my husband. I’ll give you three guesses as to whether or not my husband finds that as amusing as I do.
When I got off the airplane in Chicago I realized that I could no longer pretend that I didn’t drink way too many bottles of water and was going to have to face my neurotic fear of using public restrooms.
Also, I realize that there is a restroom on the airplane but I don’t think I even need to tell you that there is no way I am ever going in one of those, right? I mean, I’m pretty certain that I would either A) somehow get sucked out of the plane through the toilet or B) lock myself in there, go unnoticed by the flight attendants, pass out from fear and wake up having landed in some other country.
So I go into the stall and start to look for the paper seat cover because even though I won’t actually sit on it, I still like the idea of having a barrier between my bum and all of the germs that could jump up off the bare toilet seat and attach themselves to it. That is when I notice that the seat appears to be covered in saran wrap. I’m wondering how to get it off and apply a fresh cover without actually having to ever touch it when I see the sign on the wall.
Apparently, the toilet automatically wraps the seat in a new plastic cover between each use. You wave your hand over the little motion sensor and the clear plastic rotates around the seat, allegedly disposing of the used portion of the plastic while simultaneously applying a new one. ALLEGEDLY.
Because OR!
OR THAT COULD NOT EVEN BE HAPPENING AT ALL. It could totally be the same little plastic cover just rotating around the toilet seat over and over and over again. I waved my hand over the sensor a couple of times to watch the process and decided that since I can’t actually SEE it disposing of the soiled cover, I can not be sure that it is happening. It could just be disappearing into the contraption to be wiped down and then coming back out on the other side. This is not an scenario I am comfortable with.
Needless to say, by the time I got to the hotel I seriously thought I might be the first twenty nine year old woman to wet my pants in their lobby.
