Toilets
As you all know I had a fairly embarrassing incident with a toilet in Brooklyn which we won’t go into. I’ll never go into it again. If only the other fella didn’t go into it, I would have never needed to go into it in the first place but anyway after a short spell wearing nappies, I’ve moved on.
However a lack of doors isn’t where the problems end for New York ‘restrooms’. First of all the water level is ridiculous. Luckily I’m well proportioned or I could be getting wet. I’d imagine in Brooklyn you could do a roaring trade on willy waterproofs. Nothing flash, keep them simple, avoid zips and you’d do well. Anyway this isn’t a business blog.
Going to the bathroom in New York is a fine art which took me months to master. Having overcome both the aforementioned hurdles I started to grow in confidence. Until; the other day I went to the bathroom, door, check, water level, we’re OK, I get the perfect amount of toilet paper (excuse the graphic details but it’s important) reach round and BAM. The flush goes off. That’s strange I thought, the memories of my previous toilet incidents came flooding back but I knew I was stronger now so I shrugged it off and went for take two, BAM, it happened again. I’ve turned round and the toilet has an automatic hand censored flush. By the end of my session I was soaked.
Willy waterproofs will be available in all good ‘Games Workshop’ stores soon. I didn’t know where to stock them but figured you get a lot of nobs in there.
UK 2 – 1 USA
Flatulance
Farting at work has always been frowned upon. In the UK in general it’s socially unacceptable. Although at school, college and uni it was often celebrated amongst friends, amongst authority figures and females it was always a faux pas.
Once in Junior school I was sent out of silent reading, just for trumping and when I was first dating Luce, if she was around mine watching DVD’s, I’d turn the heater on whenever I was a bit windy. She still thinks that heater stinks. Keep that between us.
When working in a team at work you can sometimes get away with sly ones and no one will ever know it was you. Stare straight ahead and pretend you’re none of the wiser. We’ve all been there. Unfortunately for me I spent three months of my internship sitting completely alone which put me in a tricky situation.
If I l’d let one go just before someone came around everyone would know it was me. Leaving me with the dilemma of do I keep quiet which doesn’t really help anyone or tell them to give it a minute, which is fairly embarrassing for both parties? The other day being very English I opted for saying:
‘Sorry about that, Betty’s just been over.’
Here they seem to have a more mixed attitude. I had a colleague who was constantly burping and farting openly in the office. It was so bad people threatened to go to HR about it. He said ‘I hope they don’t follow through with it’. I said that’s what they’re worried about.
Then the other day I was in a restroom cubicle and the gentleman and I use that word loosely, using the urinal let an almighty fart go, then said:
‘Daaaaam bitch!’
There was a moment silence whilst I tried my best not to laugh, then he let another whopper go and followed that one up with:
‘Sweet Jesus, motherf4cker!’
I’m not sure if he thought he was alone but there’s a clear and valuable lesson to be learnt from this. When entering all toilets always check under each cubicle door before commenting on your farts.
Ultimately I don’t think people embrace blowing-off with the same enthusiasm in the UK as they do here but if we did I would have saved a fortune on heating and would be able to read in my head.
UK 2 – 2 USA
To be continued…
I thought they talked english over here 