It amused me today, for some reason, to recall that I know where to find a washroom at the fish market in Bergen, Norway. Oddly, I experienced almost as much pleasure in remembering that accomplishment as in the thought of being published (which just goes to show you there’s something very, very wrong with me).
Mark you, it’s not the greatest washroom you’ve ever used. For one thing, you have to pay to get into a stall. You pay an attendant, who—although I used the Men’s Room—was a woman, at least the last time I was there.
See, that’s what comes of Socialism. Verily I say unto you, if Pres. Obama (peace be upon him) and the Democrats have their way, soon all our washrooms will be pay toilets, and all the men’s rooms will have female attendants.
And it’ll do you no good staying home, because private washrooms will be outlawed. THIS WAY TO THE PEOPLE’S FACILITIES. YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK. PLEASE TAKE A NUMBER.
OK, I think I’ve taken this train of thought far enough down the track.
Living and traveling in Europe back in the 80’s, I quickly learned that the pay toilets were well worth the few coins they cost. Free toilets were rarely cleaned, dimly lit, and frequented by shadowy characters. Pay toilets were clean, bright, shiny and well patrolled. I found I much preferred to pay an attendant than pay a panhandler.
More distrubing is finding a male attendant in a ladies washroom in old Jerusalem and have him herd his patrons in & out. ick