Thursday, March 13, 2014

The Similarities of the Catholic Church and Public Bathrooms

First, let me just say this is not a bashing of the Catholic church.
Secondly, read on.

When I was just an itty bitty chick, I had a mom.
A religious mom.
Sunday school teaching mom.
Catholic Sunday school teaching mom.
'Nuff said.


Every Sunday we went to church.
Every Sunday.
My favorite parts were putting my quarter in the offering plate and the jelly donut I got after Sunday school.

OH MY GOSH!!! I get extra good points for not blaspheming right there!

What absolutely drove me nuts, was what I called in my later years, Catholic Calisthenics.

Something like this.


HECK! I was a little kid. I couldn't fathom the next move.  I was always in a constant state of stress and confusion. And with no air conditioning, a small sweaty state of stress and confusion.
Not to be confused with my current state of confusion.


Public bathrooms or Public enemy?

Here is my problem.

Do I flush the toilet?
Or does it flush it's self?
Half flush or full flush?

Do I flush with my foot?
Where's the flushie handle?
What's that little red blinkie eye thingie?!
Am I being filmed?
WAIT, I'm not done and the damn thing flushed. EW!

Do I pump the soap dispenser?
Or is it automatic?
Is it soap?
Is it hand sanitizer?
Why is there hand sanitizer when the soap is right here?

Do I turn the handle?
Pull the lever up or down?
Push lever to the right or left?
Jam the button on the top for 5 seconds of boiling hot water?
Holy crow, no handle.
Wave my hands under the faucet?
What's that red blinkie thingie? Am I being filmed?

Do I have to push to get a paper towel?
Or do I have to turn the damn thingie on the side of the dispenser?
Where is the damn thingie?
Is it the automatic evil eye that refuses to give me more than one paper towel no matter how many times I wave my damn hand in front of it?
Wipe hands on pants.
Wait, why is there a red blinkie eye thingie? Am I being filmed?

Or worse!!! That stupid hand dryer.
The big ugly white one with the chrome blower. Sit there for a damn half hour and still have to wipe your hands on your pants.
Or is it the freakin' Dyson? You know the one. Airblade or some sick twisted blowie thing. So if you can stand it to dry your hands you get the bonus gift of deafness.

So, essentially what I am saying is that, with both the church and public restrooms, I get the same thing.

I go in with a fair idea of what is going to happen and come out dazed and confused and well, damp.

My church, back in the day.


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