Click Here
Monday, November 22, 2004
I hate my school sometimes.
They decided that re-doing the toilets was what needed doing (instead of paying for experienced teachers, naturally). So out go (comically) grafittied stalls and a school atmosphere, and in come contracted workers who fit pre-fab, service-stop toilets. This means blue for boys, expanses of mirror and a feeling of continual limbo, saying: get in and get out.
So what it means is a mirror above the sink, overlooking the urinals directly (thanks). It also means wherever you are in the room, you have a direct view of someone taking a piss. The only way out is in a stall, which have walls starting off the (blue-tiled) ground and don't reach the (blue-painted) ceiling. And to create 'space' they've made them so small you can barely fit in (yeah, then the room looks bigger).
Oh, and the urinals? They're so close together your (free) hand is practically in the guy next to you's pocket. Again, fun. Especially next to someone fat (it's not their fault the school fits three urinals in a metre though).
So yeah, this is a typical visit:
1. weigh up whether you really need to go to the toilet. If yes, proceed.
2. quick glance around room. Urinal with vacant spaces in both adjacent? If yes proceed to four.
3. ah fuck it: use stall. Oh, but you don't actually fit in it. Walk backwards and keep your eyes to the ground.
4. select urinal. Place legs slightly more than shoulder-width apart (this is to prevent people standing next to you).
5. unzip, look straight ahead. Relax (maybe with the aid of a mantra).
6. wash hands. Ignore full length-reflection (courtesy of new mirrors!). Exit.
A six step process? Isn't it easier to use a tree?
What really aggravates me is that the school already had a fairy-tale toilet. Beautiful Harry-Potter-esque wash-basins, ONE grubby face-mirror. A stone floor and plenty of space. It was a welcome break from lessons, as well as a time-step back into the sixties. And now it's blue and faceless and absolutely ruined...
Oh well... At least it's still an excuse for a two-minute wander...
They decided that re-doing the toilets was what needed doing (instead of paying for experienced teachers, naturally). So out go (comically) grafittied stalls and a school atmosphere, and in come contracted workers who fit pre-fab, service-stop toilets. This means blue for boys, expanses of mirror and a feeling of continual limbo, saying: get in and get out.
So what it means is a mirror above the sink, overlooking the urinals directly (thanks). It also means wherever you are in the room, you have a direct view of someone taking a piss. The only way out is in a stall, which have walls starting off the (blue-tiled) ground and don't reach the (blue-painted) ceiling. And to create 'space' they've made them so small you can barely fit in (yeah, then the room looks bigger).
Oh, and the urinals? They're so close together your (free) hand is practically in the guy next to you's pocket. Again, fun. Especially next to someone fat (it's not their fault the school fits three urinals in a metre though).
So yeah, this is a typical visit:
1. weigh up whether you really need to go to the toilet. If yes, proceed.
2. quick glance around room. Urinal with vacant spaces in both adjacent? If yes proceed to four.
3. ah fuck it: use stall. Oh, but you don't actually fit in it. Walk backwards and keep your eyes to the ground.
4. select urinal. Place legs slightly more than shoulder-width apart (this is to prevent people standing next to you).
5. unzip, look straight ahead. Relax (maybe with the aid of a mantra).
6. wash hands. Ignore full length-reflection (courtesy of new mirrors!). Exit.
A six step process? Isn't it easier to use a tree?
What really aggravates me is that the school already had a fairy-tale toilet. Beautiful Harry-Potter-esque wash-basins, ONE grubby face-mirror. A stone floor and plenty of space. It was a welcome break from lessons, as well as a time-step back into the sixties. And now it's blue and faceless and absolutely ruined...
Oh well... At least it's still an excuse for a two-minute wander...
