Betsy Shebang - Column for 5/14
My neck and back were siezing up from frustration like they’d been doing for a few weeks, so I shuffled into the bathroom to stretch out and unclench my jaw. I’d been spending more time in the single-user handicap restroom lately, the way a kid might retreat to the warm space behind the couch while his parents fight in the kitchen, but the company had recently installed electronic motion-sensitive flushing mechanisms on all the fixtures and now any moment of peace would be interrupted by the toilet spouting off like a car alarm, right in the middle of whatever I was doing, as if to say “Oh, I’m sorry – were you finished?” I really do feel like the toilet does that because I’m failing to hold its interest, which I know is irrational but I can’t make the feeling go away. I wondered if the new building was going to have better toilets.
Columns by Betsy Shebang