Bathroom Etiquette

I have a whole slew of peculiar eccentricities when it comes to numbers, social contracts and germs. I'm a hypochondriac who's afraid of needles to get blood tests. I have to do everything in even numbers - eat, kiss, steps taken with each foot. I don't like to touch anything in a public bathroom and will do as much as I can do avoid this when I'm in them and still wash my hands.

Also, for some odd reason - probably related to my face - I get a lot of strangers talking to me. On the bus, on the train, on the street, on planes. Anywhere. They will approach me, ask something or say something, and then just stick around. And because I'm so damn Canadian (RE: polite) I find it very hard to extricate myself from the situation lest something force me (e.g. the train I have to get on arrives and they are not getting on it).

All in all, I live a mildly awkward life.

There is, however, one place that I've found that people mostly preserve the sacred code and that is in the public restroom. Everyone knows that - in the men's room, anyway - you go in, do your business, and you leave. Like in an elevator, you don't speak (unless it's just you and your buddies), you barely make eye contact with anyone if you can and then you get out.

So when the fuck did it become okay for people to just chatty-McChat-chat in the goddamn bathroom?

For the longest time - and the worst offenders are at work - it would just be I'd walk in, nod at whoever was at the sink if they noticed me, I'd go in and do my business and leave, nodding at whoever else walked in. Now, it seems, I walk in and whoever is at the sink not only says "hello" but does their merry best to engage me in conversation.

"How are you?"
"How's your dad?"
"How's work treating you?"

I bluff past this until the bathroom proper where thankfully there is but one urinal and two stalls. On my way out, whoever is coming in says something to me. When I'm at the sink, someone comes in and chats. Someone comes out of the bathroom stall and chats.

HELLO! I JUST SMELLED YOUR AWFUL STINK OR WATCHED YOU PEE! I DON'T NEED TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT AWAY!

The worst is walking into the bathroom, some people are chatting and then on my way out they're still there! No. The bathroom is not a place to have a chat. It's a place to piss, shit, wash your hands/face and get the fuck out.

Mahalo.

Why, Evolution? I Thought We Were Friends.

Let me say this first - I am a strong advocate of evolution. It's the only plausible explanation, for me, as to our existence on this planet. So, yes, that means I am not a deist or theist. But, that doesn't mean I don't have qualms with some things evolution has done.

Don't get me wrong, I am all for opposable thumbs, great hair and the ability to sing in thirty different languages, but sometimes the things evolution did just seem cruel. In retrospect. And I'm not talking just about the animal kingdom or the whole "testicles on the outside" thing, either - though, really, that was a slip up.

No, what I'm talking about, is the essence of sentience. Stick with me here. All mammals - and most likely all animals - share the same instinct to survive. In 1952, neurologist Paul McLean proposed that the Limbic System was where all emotional survival instincts originate - fight, flight, feed and procreate. However, around 50,000 years ago, one of these early humans became conscious of its own consciousness.

This means it gained the ability to contemplate its life, what has happened, what could be and, the focus of this article, its own death. A completely unique creature which can merge the creation of highly evolved symbolic systems with the destructive power of its most basic instinct, fear.

Ernest Becker said that;

"[T]he real world is simply too terrible to admit. It tells man that he is a small, trembling animal who will someday decay and die. Culture changes all of this, makes man seem important, vital to the universe. Immortal in some ways." 

To make things clear, I am also an advocate of culture, because it does make us feel important. The things we create are unparalleled by any other creature in existence. Art, literature, films, technology, this article - all of these things are part of what makes mankind's culture so interesting; a way of immortalising itself while simultaneously bringing joy and improvement to the lives of all humans who follow.

Of course there are the negative aspects of culture and culture propagators, but that is not the focus here.

The focus here, is the fact that we - as human beings - are born with the awareness of our own deaths. While I can comprehend the evolutionary point to giving us opposable thumbs and the ability to use tools - it makes us a deadly prey while also leaving us fleshy, soft and gooey as opposed to being covered in armour and spikes. With tools and creativity, we create our own weapons and armour. I can also see the evolutionary point in being upright with two hands and two legs, it’s a simple and easy structure. What I can not find logic for is the awareness of our own demise. 

Of course, with the awareness of existence comes in tandem the awareness of the end of that existence. I guess that's the only way it can be. This sentience is what we lord over the animals with, creating beautiful and wondrous things as a result of it. We immortalize ourselves. As social psychologist Sheldon Solomon said, 

"[culture] is supposed to give us a sense of where we come from and what we're supposed to do while we're here". 

Then again, evolution, you've given an essentially still-primitive mammal, whose basic instinct is still to be afraid of everything, and made them aware that they’re going to die.

I have lain awake at nights, having shaking panic attacks, contemplating the concept that, though I am alive now, I will die. And it's not the dying that scares me - that's the easy part. It just happens. No, what's hard to come to terms with is the overarching perspective that I am used to existing, to doing things, and then to suddenly no longer be doing anything at all is terrifying.

Honestly, from an evolutionary standpoint, I can't figure out what the point was to give us awareness of our existence and death. The logical answer, then, is to not think about it and to make the best of the time that we do have, but let's face it - we're obsessed with death. It's everywhere. Films. TV. Books. Art. All of these are filled with death. Religion is used as a coping mechanism and tells us we go somewhere afterwards - forever - once we die, to make this world not seem so awful.

I don't know, evolution, your reasons are mysterious to me. But, hey, I'm scared of mother nature already - I'm not going to mess with her will.

Mahalo.