Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Please read me carefully and comment on me, as I tend to drip and wallow...

There is ample reading material in my photography school's bathroom*.

"Please handle me gently and lift me up after flushing," the lever on the toilet tells me as I go to push it.

"Make sure you close me tightly. I tend to drip..." warns the cold water tap as I turn it to wash my hands.

"A little of me goes a long way," reminds the soap dispenser as I push on the button to extricate some of the pink liquid soap it holds in its innards.

"Please don't throw me in the toilet, I can't swim!" exclaims the paper dispenser as I yank on the paper to dry my hands.

Signs. Everywhere on the walls of the bathroom. Inanimate toilet fixtures** that I have been more or less successfully utilizing for quite a number of years, now come with instructions given by the fixture itself.

Cute?

No. Not even close.

Weird and unnerving?

Very much so.

Out of place?

Appropriate for a primary school.

Every time I enter the school, I walk past the front desk. Looking at the receptionist behind the desk and at her actual cutesy-wutesy (hey, being scientific here) workspace, I'm almost certain that I am also looking at the culprit behind the dubious toilet-signage.

Every time I pass her I want to tell her: "Get a life woman", but then I remember that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Or cliches around flippantly.

So I won't.

And then I get home to my sorrowfully sighing and eternally melancholy fridge, the washing machine that threatens me when it doesn't get its way (Yes, the un-torched one too), and the house that was born a fridge in a house's outer shell, and I'm filled with gratitude that my toilet has thus far kept its thoughts to itself.

I deal best with complaints when my pants are not around my ankles.


Now, this is a sign I can get onboard with, and relate to.

* It is actually a bathroom, since the school is located in an old mansion. And really, there is nothing nicer than taking a quick bath in between classes. 
** Not that there are animate ones here, the stupid not-Japan this place is.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

I agree. Complaints are much better received with pants up!!

Optimistic Pessimist said...

Obviously the receptionist was behind it. If the toliet really could talk I'm sure it would have far more interesting things to say other than asking to be handled gently.

My name is Erin. said...

The signs kind of beg for rebellion doesn't it? Don't you just want to leave the water running? If it wouldn't ruin the world, what with all the wasted water and whatnot, I'd say do it! Slam the lever down when you flush and leave it down. Leave the water drip, drip, dripping. Use 5 good pumps of soap when you wash your hands... twice. Throw the paper in the toilet and watch it drown! *evil laugh* Bwwwahahahahahhaha!!!

My name is Erin. said...

First sentence should have read "the signs kind of beg for rebellion, don't they?" Sorry for such crappy grammar. I've only had one cup of coffee. I'm sure you understand.

Myne said...

Your backtalk is just hilarious and this is one of the best examples. You had me cracking there.

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Lisa-Marie said...

Haing trained as a teacher, I have made signs for things. I don't write them as if the object is saying it though.

Anonymous said...

I can't decide if cutesy wutsey signs or the passive agressive signs we have at my job are worse. Both really piss everyone off. What happened to just using common sense?

Cwybrow said...

I'm feeling a bit drippy and overwhelmed too. HOWEVER, as a reasonably functional adult (after coffee, and sleep, and carbohydrates) I still know how to use the basic companents of a bathroom.

julochka said...

i was composing a comment along the lines of "you should see the toilet signage in japan..." but then you beat me to it.

WV: lationgi - the language of latrine signage.