Women are, as women know but hate to admit, public toilet slobs. The very nature of feminine hygiene is somewhat to blame, it's more complicated and requires more accoutrements. But it doesn't excuse lapses in common courtesy, like making sure the tissue seat cover actually flushes and isnÕt left half in the bowl and half on the floor for the next gal. And need I say more than "squat splashback"? (Well, maybe I do -- you know, when you squat instead of sitting for fear of what's on the seat, and the extra elevation caused more splash.)>
Most women, on entering a public toilet, are like the mom I heard guiding her young daughter in the public facility at a Utah ski resort, "Don't touch anything. It's filthy. Don't let your clothes touch the wet ground! No, I'll flush it with my foot . . ." And Utah's toilets, even in the ones drenched in melted snow and sprinkled with gravel in the ski base lodges, are infinitely cleaner than the typical New York restaurant john on a good day.
>No wonder women approach strange toilets with trepidation. But I'm still at a loss to understand how flushing before you use it helps. Assuming the last person flushed (and actually took note of whether the flush was effective but most women, seeing an unflushed toilet, will move on the next if they possibly can) how does changing the water in the bowl improve the public toilet experience? Do they do it at home, too? How long does it take their toilets at home to refill?
The Courtesy Flush
The Cover-up Flush
The Inspirational Flush