A Man's View of the Ladies' Room

OK, I’m not some pervert that goes sneaking into the women’s john to get his jollies. I have been in a few for legitimate purposes, and have gotten a glimpse inside others as I passed by. And I have to say, “What the hell?”

Just what is going on in there? Some of these places look like miniature apartments. There are chairs! Not just some $5.00 plastic lawn chair from Walmart, but an upholstered Barca-lounger. Why in the name of perdition do you need a chair like that in the can? You really just go in there to hang out? And you do so for such a long time that you require a comfy chair? Look, loathe as you may be to admit it, your plumbing works pretty much the same as ours. The upshot being that certain none-too-pleasant odors are going to be lurking in the general vicinity. That’s not the environment where I would want to sit back and kick up my heels for an extended visit.

And the supplies! It looks like the pharmaceutical aisle in there. Now I know that there are certain extra “supplies” that you gals require, but hair gel? Powder? Perfume? OK, I know that you are more concerned about your general upkeep over the course of the day, but can’t you bring your own accessories? Who’s paying for this stuff, anyway? It better not be on the company dime, while I’m sitting here skinning my ass with toilet paper that is so rough that I’d be better off cleansing myself with a paint scraper!

Let’s talk about the décor while we’re at it. Who goes to all the trouble of hanging plants and paintings in the loo? Us guys are lucky to get a foul, misspelled limerick, while you ladies get to gaze upon something by DaVinci. Or at least a half way decent starving artist. Although I’d imagine he wouldn’t be too happy to know that the only thing his efforts landed him was placement on the shit house wall.

I just think it’s pretty damn unfair. If we’re lucky, we get a bucket to squat over, some low grade cardboard for bum fodder, and a half functional faucet with no paper towels. You ladies get to take a dump in the lap of luxury while listening to Mozart and gazing upon tranquil landscapes. So just appreciate it and quit bitching about the lid being up when you get home!

I believe a sitcom writer from 1993 has sneaked into your home and is posting under your name, Smitty. I’ve seen a ladies’ room like that once. At the Royal Albert Hall. The rest of the time they’re plain old stalls and sinks.

The comfy chairs are useful to nursing mothers who want somewhere quasi-private to breastfeed.

ETA: Why the F does my signature show when I do a quick post, even though I’ve disabled the thing like six different ways??

Plus, they need places to hide the secret cameras…

Well, duh. :wink:

Also, women have this thing where, once a month, for a variable amount of time, their entire insides decide to foment revolution and cause pain, suffering and potential sartorial embarrassment. I’m sure it’s very nice to have a soft, cushiony place to lie down for a few minutes when your uterus threatens to perform the William Hurt mess hall scene from Alien.

During my misspent youth we’d occasionally go to one of the night clubs along the Ohio River. This one place was low on my list but occasionally I’d get roped into going there. One night I noticed that all of the female members of our “crew” had disappeared. Eventually we found that they were all in the women’s restroom. Turns out the place had put a full bar with bartenders suited up like Chippendale dancers. It was packed and many of the “ladies” didn’t want to come back out. You could see what was going on when the door opened, so it wasn’t just a tall tale. The men’s room there was the usual run of the mill facility, although they probably had the standard attendant thing going on. Don’t really remember.

One sees womens’ rooms like this in posh department stores and concert halls, but generally not in other places. As someone said, it’s usually just stalls and sinks.

About the fancy ones though, I always thought that they had the furniture and plants just because it makes women feel pampered and spoiled and like they want to come back to the building that has such nice restrooms, not for any functional purpose (although nursing and cramp-recovery are compelling explanations). And the free supplies? Love them. It’s one of my favorite drunk party tricks to go to the ladies’ room and bring back a handful of goodies to show everyone. I especially like the restaurant that gives out banana flavored condoms.

The Wondrous Ladies’ Room.

I’ve only seen a handful of non-department store ladies’ rooms that looked like this (when the men’s didn’t), and in those cases it was the women who brought in the products, plants, etc. The men were free to do the same.

And yes, our plumbing works the same. Except we go #3. And sometimes there’s so much bloodshed you need a breather. As someone pointed out, chairs or couches are also good for breastfeeding. Or waiting while other women take a long time.

In my youth, working at a Target department store, I was once charged for a brief period of time with cleaning the bathrooms.

I’ve never seen a more filthy pigsty than the women’s restroom. I’ve been led to understand that this was not necessarily an abberation.

I’ll stick to the spartan but clean men’s room, thanks.

Two words: hover and squat.

Four words in frightening combination: hover, squat, explosive, diarrhea.

I faced the outcome of the latter with a mop and that little yellow bucket on wheels.

Nitpick: John Hurt.


Well, whichever…the character definitely hurt either way.

At work?

I want it noted that I was above making that joke, despite a very sincere desire to do so. :smiley:

My sympathies to all three of you.

You never heard of breast pumps?

…and for laying down when you have cramps.

My neighbor decided to take a quick snooze on the ladie’s room couch when he worked nights (no one would be using it) and he died.

Oh, believe me, I’m not above anything…

I grew up in fundamentalist churches and Christian schools during the mid-eighties and ninties; believe me, there was a great disparity in the condition of the mens’ and womens’ rooms in those places. Obviously, one was unlikely to encounter obscenities or phone numbers in either, but often the womens’ rooms were meticulously maintained (comfy, perfumy and flowery) while the mens’ rooms were no less than neglected with leaking pipes, etc.