The Restroom Paradox

Let’s talk about restrooms. Not in a gross way—more in a “first-world-problem-meets-nature-calls” kind of way. You see, we all expect our public toilets to be spotless, sweet-smelling havens of porcelain perfection.

A chipped tile? One star. Flaking paint? How dare they. Squeaky tap? Civilisation is crumbling.

But travel a little—say, outside your pampered postcode—and the “tap” is a shared bucket. The wall? Optional. The tile? Dirt. The flush? You.

Now, here’s the kicker: our opinion of a restroom’s quality directly correlates with the urgency of our bladder (or the other). If we’re casually browsing for a loo, we demand marble countertops and scented soap. But if we’re doing the gotta-go dance, suddenly a hole in the ground with a bucket of water becomes a five-star suite.

Maybe our reviews should say, “Would’ve given 1 star, but I was so desperate I nearly hugged the cracked toilet bowl in gratitude.”

Let’s get some perspective. You had toilet paper. It flushed. The door locked. That’s a miracle in half the world.

So next time you’re hovering over a bowl with a soap dispenser that’s seen better days, take a moment to thank the plumbing gods—and maybe don’t annihilate a local business over questionable grout.

–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)