The importance of men's room etiquette

Using the men’s room can be a problematic issue for some of us of the male affiliation. I’m not talking about those difficulties that come with age and certain medical conditions; rather, I’m talking about how the rules of social intercour--, er, etiquette, take on a whole new dimension once men leave the world of the multi-gendered and enter the chamber of necessity.

It seems this is particularly true in the office setting. The people you’re working with on a regular basis become very familiar over the years, and the familiarity and casual nature of that relationship is not one that translates well to the restroom. Being friendly, talkative and outgoing in the cubicle jungle is a great way to get ahead in the world of office politics. Getting ahead, however, is not something you even want to say in certain other settings.

I’ve designed an elaborate set of rules that need to apply to these interactions, and I’m working hard to get them universally accepted. It’s not the kind of thing you can put into an email or PowerPoint presentation, so I’m having to work in this roundabout way to get them widely agreed upon among the men I work with. Posting these guidelines on a blog instead, where they can be read by the entire online world, seems somehow more subtle.

The first rule, of course, is that there is to be no talking inside the men’s room. The risk of saying something that can be misconstrued is just too real, and you don’t want to take this chance with someone who could make or break your career. When some kind of communication is absolutely necessary, it should be undertaken using the non-verbal codes that I’ll detail below.

As you’re pushing the door to enter the room, it is suggested that you snort or sniff loudly, in a manner similar to the way you’d deal with a runny nose. This is to indicate to anyone already inside that another person is entering the room, and that any sort of activities that may be going on in what had been the privacy between you and your maker need to stop immediately. (I’m not talking about anything of a perverse nature, just stuff like examining your noseholes in front of the mirror, examining your tongue, digging wax out of your ear with a pencil, etc.). It’s also a signal to anyone about to exit the room that the door is about to move inward, usually in a very fast and determined motion, and you need to stand back in order to avoid jamming a limb.

If you’re already inside using the facilities, a quick clearing of the throat is a good signal to the newly entered that they too are going to have to share this space where the public world meets the private. Again, you don’t want either party to be embarrassed by what the other is doing or is about to do. There are many words and phrases that can’t be said in the men’s room, but certainly foremost among these would be something like “That’s disgusting”.

If one party is already inhabiting a stall, and doing all that entails, a “courtesy flush” should be used to cover any sounds you might be making that others don’t want to hear. If your particular facility has one of those motion-activated set-ups, you need to wiggle around enough to trigger activation.

The courtesy flush is NOT to be used to cover the sounds of you talking on a cell phone while you’re doing your business. This most grievous of social outrages has becoming surprisingly accepted in some quarters, but not in mine. You may not care if the person you’re talking to gets to listen in on your most personal of soundscapes, but I don’t want them hearing mine. How do you know that the other end isn’t hooked up to a speakerphone in a room full of Sunday school teachers? Plus, I can’t tell that you’re talking to someone far away and not to me, and I don’t want to think up responses to questions like “how’s it going” and “what’s up?”

If you find yourself indisposed and discover you need certain supplies that have become exhausted, just deal with it. Don’t expect me to be passing materials under the stall wall. It seems perfectly reasonable to expect that toilet seat covers can be substituted in an emergency. Too bad if they become jagged when balled up. The only way I’m sending a roll of tissue in your direction is over the wall and through the darkness when I turn off the light and leave the room.

A few other pointers in closing:

The handicapped stall is not the same concept as the handicapped parking space. Unless you’re wearing the blue wheelchair dangler as your necktie, the increased elbow room of this stall should be considered available to anyone. Not that you should be doing anything in there that requires increased elbow room, except perhaps stretching your legs like I occasionally do by putting my foot on the grip bar like a ballet student doing a dance exercise. (Never you mind that I have only one foot visible.) I reserve the right to change the rules on this point should I become handicapped myself.

If you find yourself at the mirror at the same time as another occupant, limit your preening to the bare minimum. A quick brush at your hair with your hand (no combs) or raising your chin to look at your neck is acceptable; applying any type of ointments or unguents is not.

Reading material is not to be taken into the men’s room with you. It sends the message to anyone who sees you heading that way that you’re planning on some type of semi-permanent occupation, similar to what we saw with Russia’s recent incursion into Georgia. Any visit that requires an entertainment add-on is one that is going on way too long. If you need something, look instead for anything that’s been abandoned by those who preceded you. You’ll be surprised how interesting otherwise dry reading (commodity quotes, baseball line scores, Target supplements) can become. And do not, under any circumstances, bring anything you found out of the bathroom with you. The only exception might be money on the floor, and even that carries another whole level of risk if you pick it up from beneath the wall of the stall.

The best approach of all is probably to do everything you can to plan your visits to minimize any and all chance encounters. Our men’s room door is conveniently located between a breakroom entrance to the left and an exit door to the warehouse on the right. So I’m able to abort any approach where room-sharing may be required by diverting for a snack or wandering aimlessly around the shipping dock pretending to be looking for something. If you’re already inside when someone enters to join you, you can slip into a (hopefully) unoccupied stall, and wait till they leave.

Or you can hold it for eight hours.