Civilization breaks down.
When a tornado hit the St. Louis airport recently, people were told to take shelter in the restrooms. Airport video showed men and women running through the flying debris, past the opposite gender’s restroom to get to “their” restroom.
My cousin Ed, a St. Louisan and keen observer of the human condition, wondered: doesn’t a tornado justify a suspension of such niceties?
Not by me. I would be one of the idiots running by the Men’s room. I would be embarrassed to interrupt some poor guy in flagrante urinale. I would never, ever go into the Men’s room.
But there was that time in college…
I went to a rock concert at an outdoor amphitheater called Pine Knob. I don’t remember who was playing, but given that it was in Michigan circa 1980, there’s a 50/50 chance it was Bob Seger or Ted Nugent.
It was a beautiful summer day and the place was packed. It would be safe to say that the majority of the attendees had consumed some adult beverages.
A group of us girls decided to hit the ladies room before the concert started. That was when we got our first inkling that all was not right.
We approached the closest restroom only to discover an OUT OF ORDER sign on the door of the Women’s. Damn! The beer was starting to kick in with some urgency. We trudged on.
In the next corner of the park we found the second restroom, and a second OUT OF ORDER sign on the Women’s room. The OUT OF ORDER sign that greeted us at the third restroom wasn’t a big surprise.
The main building at the entrance had the only Women’s restroom in the whole park that was in operation. This was not good.
There were 15,000 drunk and nearly drunk people in the place, and half of them were women. Women with bladders.
We got it line, maybe 50 people back. A low murmur of discontent started.
One group of girls formed a circle around a friend as she squatted and went on the concrete. We were appalled at this lack of modesty, but could understand it. When you gotta go, etc. For many, the situation was becoming desperate.
I could hear the muttering, “We have to take half of our clothes off to do our business. Then we wash our hands. Then we have to check our hair and makeup. What do the guys do? Unzip, whiz, zip-up. They don’t even wash their hands!” The volume of the mutterings rose and the tenor became angry. “We should have TWICE as many restrooms as they do, but do we? No! We have one. One lousy restroom!”
Our line was growing longer by the minute. The guys were going freely in and out of the Men’s room. They had no line at all! They, whose needs are so much simpler, had 4 bathrooms and who knows how many stalls. Why? They didn’t even use them. All they needed was a tree. That wasn’t fair, was it?
More girls were squatting right in line. I was witnessing the breakdown of civilization.
Someone started a chant. “MENs room, MENS room, MENS room.” Girls whipped out makeup, and started adorning their faces. Vivid slashes of turquoise, red and green were swiped across chin and cheeks. War paint.
“MENS room, MENS room, MENS room” the chant grew in volume, angry and high-pitched. A group of girls who had been singing Bob Seger tunes moments before, now moved slowly toward the Men’s room, hairbrushes clutched menacingly. They were the hunters of the tribe.
I was appalled. I tried to inject a note of reason “Ladies, ladies! Which is better — to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?”
When the human spirit is put to the test, we do not always pass.
The men who had been in the restroom were pulled out. They were passed overhead, from hand to drunken hand over a sea of angry, chanting women. The men’s faces showed confusion turning quickly to horror.
I swore I would not degenerate into a savage. We were civilized women! There had to be a better way!
And yet, I had had quite a bit to drink. And I really had to go…
I woke up the next morning, safe and sound in my own bed. My head was aching; memories of the night before were hazy. Surely we hadn’t…? But no, it had all been just a dream.
So I told myself. Until I saw the smear of paint on my pillow.
And the conch shell resting at the foot of my bed.
* Picture, pre-embellishment, courtesy of the Lord Of The Flies movie.
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 
I’m struggling with the lesson here – is it that beer is disintegrating our society; that men did not then (and probably never will) understand the bathroom needs of women; or that women with full bladders are dangerous to society? I think I need a Lordette of the Flies discussion group.
LikeLike
Just like with multiple choice tests in school, your best bet is “all of the above”. Let me know when our first discussion group meeting starts.
LikeLike
Good news – our first meeting will be held on Friday night at the Kegland Bar & Grill. Meet you there!
LikeLike
I’ll be the one in the bathroom.
LikeLike
Save me a stall.
LikeLike
You’ll have to hunt your own.
LikeLike
I believe you will find this is item #57 on the list of “100 reasons why it’s better to be a guy.”
LikeLike
It should be higher up the list.
LikeLike
I believe the correct title of the list is “100 reasons why it’s EASIER to be a guy.”
LikeLike
😉
LikeLike
Isn’t easier better? And yes, I will contact the committee about moving it up the list. But it will never replace “we know stuff about tanks” as #1.
LikeLike
If my husband knew more about toilet tanks, now that would be useful. Sherman tanks, not so much.
LikeLike
haha! I have definitely abused the mens washroom when the need was dire. Never with so much tribal violence, though.
The building most of my classes was in for university had three womens washrooms (4 floors), all of which were single-stall, because they were converted from handicapped stalls. The engineers, they really didn’t think women would ever be admitted into their faculty or their building.
LikeLike
Sometimes you have no choice. All you need is a girlfriend to stand guard.
LikeLike
Thanks for keeping it all in perspective! Love your ramblings. 🙂
LikeLike
It was a scary experience. I think. Really can’t remember. Thanks for stopping by!
LikeLike
Single stall men’s rooms are the easiest to invade. Just yesterday a friend and I stood guard for a young woman who just couldn’t wait for that ladies’ room line.
LikeLike
Were you and the other guard appropriately armed?
LikeLike
No, but the men we did turn away seemed more confused than warlike.
LikeLike
I’m glad you avoided open warfare.
LikeLike
Many a time I have stood by an empty single unoccupied men’s bathroom, waiting for the women ahead of me, and have decided ‘why wait’? Went ahead and used that bathroom with NO shame at all. When you gotta go, you gotta go!
LikeLike
The difference between us, Tar, is I’d be standing there stewing about it, thinking “I should just go. Why wait?” etc. etc., but I wouldn’t go through with it.
LikeLike
I have seen this happen — well, not the war paint, just the takeover. In defense of men, I have witnessed some men making the men’s restroom available on behalf of women in need.
LikeLike
Now, THAT is true chivalry.
LikeLike
I was tinkling away in a Whole Foods bathroom one morning, when I notice that the occupant in the next stall had really big feet. I opened my stall door and was horrified to see a urinal on the wall. Then Big Foot opened HIS door and I came face to face with a guy I knew! I screamed bloody murder! I’m more careful now.
LikeLike
Oh. My. And it was somebody you knew? Did you ever go into that store again?
LikeLike
I always wondered what that conch shell in your curio cabinet was all about, Peg…
LikeLike
What, that thing? That means nothing! Nothing at all.
LikeLike
It makes me crazy that there aren’t twice as many women’s rest rooms as men’s. Makes no sense. I know a lot of women who routinely use men’s rooms. Oooh, that sounded weird.
LikeLike
My, what an interesting crowd you run with.
LikeLike
I laughed out loud at “flagrante urinale”.
I agree with Ed, a tornado should allow for a suspension of niceties.
LikeLike
I agree in theory, but habits are hard to break.
LikeLike
When I sold Pampered Chef and went to the annual conferences, they routinely turned the mens rooms into women’s rooms. There were very nice floral arrangements placed in the urinals. Nice touch, don’t you think?
LikeLike
I’m getting the feeliing that most of the chefs were women? I’m also wondering about the poor guy who wanders into the Men’s room and “waters” the flowers before he notices them.
LikeLike
Ya know, re-reading the title, I would think this was a blog about flying insects invading bathrooms! That is often an issue in rest areas, park latrines, and the like… how about changing the title to “Civilization Breaks Down: Lord, I Hate These Flies In The Restroom”. Something to ponder next time you enjoy the ladies’ room!
LikeLike
Eeeeew. That’s even grosser than the girls squatting in line!
LikeLike