Slamming toilet seats

Slamming toilet seats
by James Channing Shaw

My office is across the hallway from a public bathroom (washroom in Canada). The English term 'water closet' is more accurate for this particular washroom since it's a one person, close-the-door-and-lock-it bathroom. All day long I am constantly jarred by the 'whack!' of the heavy plastic seat falling onto the porcelain rim. Someone goes in, closes the door, throws the dead bolt, and bang! down goes the seat. I can forget about ever having a five minute power nap after lunch.

Do people slam toilet seats at home? I suspect not. What happens to them when they leave the house? Do they leave all respect for public property at their front doorstep every morning? It's as if toilet seat bangers have no perception of anyone other than themselves. I know people like that. I'm related to people like that. Is this Nature or Nurture? Were the parents of toilet seat bangers so permissive that they grew up thinking that anything they wanted to do was OK, regardless of consequences to others? I would love to know the answer to these questions.

Actually I think I understand two reasons why people slam toilet seats. First, we think we can be disrespectful of property when it’s not our own. We don’t care if the thing breaks as long as we didn’t have to buy it in the first place, and don’t have to pay for the new one. Sadly, it's human nature. Second, there must be some phobia about germs that makes people afraid to touch the toilet seat and let it down gently. They must be using their foot or a stick or something to hit the toilet seat down, into submission, as it were, before they completely wrap it with toilet paper so they can finally sit on it.

What degree of separation from kin is necessary to view toilet seats as prime vectors for disease? Spouses and children?—they're cool. Slobbering Labrador Retrievers?—generally not a problem. Aunts and Uncles?—they're usually OK if not too old and don't smell bad. Neighbors?—could get a little sketchy. The cleaning lady?—now we're getting warm. Colleagues from the office?—you get the picture. So it is about strangers, and those in a socioeconomic class lower than the one you currently occupy. It's the thought of the buttocks of the riff-raff having just sat where you are about to put your buttocks, that makes people squeamish so they approach the toilet seat as if it were radioactive. The broken toilet seats I've seen in my life!

But I do have some suggestions. Concerning respect for the next guy or public property, I can't do much about that other than to say: Parents, teach your kids to do the right thing. It just might stick. Concerning germ phobia there are some points to make. First, bacteria don't bore holes into normal skin; nor do they typically fly around the room. If you happen to get bacteria or viruses on your hands now and then, like every time you bite your nails, scratch your head, rub your eyes, or touch the spout on the office water cooler, you can always wash your hands. It washes off!

Second, if you just can't handle the thought of putting the toilet seat down gently with bare hands, use a paper towel or piece of tissue for protection. Germs don't jump through paper in a nano-second.

Finally, men, guys, this is really about you: after you pee and wash your hands, use the paper towel with which you dried your hands to lower the seat for the next customer. She could be your future wife, if that's not too old-fashioned. Alternatively, try sitting down to pee; you'll likely have to do that eventually anyway, when your prostate gland gets too big. Just a thought.