When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Forever grateful for the public locations available when these less-than-convenient moments arrive, I’ve always mused silently to myself over the nature of public restrooms: their designs, maintenance, features, and locations. Over time, I’ve come to appreciate any lavatory that leaves me feeling clean, crisp and consequence free.
Now, while being a reviewer is something I’ve always imagined myself enjoying, I’ve never felt like I had the authority to speak in any of the usual realms of critique. Restaurant critics seem to have a cultivated a deep, developed culinary wisdom: sacred and exclusive only to those who are one with the art of food and its preparation. When they bite into an omelet, you’d better believe their taste buds are making advanced biological calculations on mushroom to cheese ratios. Me? I barely notice that little toothpick they put in the hamburger, and end up piercing the roof of my mouth. And blood usually doesn’t help bring out the flavor very much. As for music? I’m way too cynical. Plus, I’m probably half deaf by now.
Public restrooms, on the other hand, are something I feel like I can speak to. I’ve harbored resentments against establishments for not stocking their toilet paper adequately. I’ve also observed and noted differences in various models of air-hand dryers. The Dyson. The Nova. The XLERATOR.
Of course, not having much material to compare my work with, I’ve had to develop my own evaluation criteria, complete with a rating system. The Latrine Scene documents my pursuit of talking about toilets.
Now here’s a blurb of legal crap.
© Raymond Wade and The Latrine Scene, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Raymond Wade and The Latrine Scene with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. Yeah. Legal crap.