I decided a while back that I wasn't going to pay to use a toilet. Ever, if I could help it. In Germany, that's a feat. Even the toilets at stores have either an automated paid entry thingy or a lady sitting there with a donation jar who has just the look to make you feel guilty. I formulated a plan in my mind to discover open buildings with available toilets. While scouting out toilets in my department's building, I could only find the handicapped bathroom, which was just fine with me. It was love at first use. I was only unfaithful one time, and I regretted it. The finally-found women's bathroom was crowded, dirty, not all the stalls had toilet paper, and there were no paper towels left. In contrast, my bathroom has only one toilet with plenty of space, plenty of toilet paper, no one seems to ever have used it, and there is this curious cord that makes me wonder every time I see it. A sign accompanying the cord says, "Pull for help," or something like that, in German of course. Each time I read the message and see the red cord, I think, "Who's on the other side of that cord? Who would come running if I or someone else were to pull it? Would anyone come running?" Maybe I'll try it one of these days and if someone comes I'll say that I couldn't get the door open. Or maybe I'll just act stupid like I don't speak German or English or any recognizable language. I'm good at that.
18 October 2007
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