Sihlbrugg, Switzerland, November 20th 2013
Dear hoteliers, barkeeps and various assorted hospitality personages of the world, let’s get something perfectly straight once and for good –
you don’t get to tell me how to pee.
You think you’re being subtle when you install a toilet seat that won’t stay up? You are positively not, and it’s pissing me off, which translates into me inadvertently pissing all over your respective floors. The consequences of your ill-advised attempts at social engineering fall on your
I’m not sitting down no matter what you do, no matter how you try to make me, and the only thing you’re accomplishing is getting my foot on the toilet seat to keep it up despite your not so clever bit of sanitary social engineering, because now it’s personal and a matter of honor, you sons of bitches. The minute you install a crappy orwellian hitlerseat to try to get me to sit down, it’s your will against mine – and I am not yielding. We are now fighting the ancient fight between liberty and (however sublimated) coercion, the only real fight in human affairs, the good fight. All you’re getting is a guy peeing in the crane position and thus a much increased risk of pee where nobody wanted it to go – so exactly what you wanted to avoid in the first place. Good going.
Just put a normal working seat there, you confounded doucheraptors. All “choice architecture” ultimately backfires and all you get is the cleaning lady demanding a raise and a customer in hornlock with your sorry stalinist ass forever. People above a certain age (typically around three) do not like being bossed around the potty. I’m gonna pee where, when and how I see fit, within the usual societal norms and customs. Not yours. Deal with it.