In the bathroom stall next to me I heard a mother admonishing her child, “Don’t touch that. Stop! Don’t touch anything. No!” She sounded as panicky, as if the fixtures were going to brand her child’s bottom.
I thought “That child is going to grow up to be a hoverer.” You know, one of those people who don’t actually let the backs of their thighs make contact with the toilet seat. You may be one of those people yourself, and if you are, I apologize to you and want to know what the hell made you that way.
We share the bathroom at work with an office of nurses. The nurses hover. They hover and hence there is urine on the seat after they leave. After they stand up they flush the toilets with their feet, wrap up in a mitten of toilet paper to get out of the stall, wash their hands (and I’m fine with that), then they do this huge production of using many paper towels to guard against the germs on the sink handles, trash can, and door handle.
Oddly, they all also make prolonged phone calls in the bathroom. (I never see them scrubbing down their cell phones afterward.) And I am sorry, but how much more pristine than everyone else do they think they are? Are they under the impression the programming staff in our office sits there and says, “I’ve always wondered what that round spool of cottony tissue is on the wall next to me. Hmm. Here, let me use my hand to wipe my ass.” And then evidently we finger-paint invisible patterns on the porcelain, mixing the e-coli with the urine the hovering angels have left there as they float about all the scat coming out of their bowels.
Hoverers, aren’t you over-compensating just a little?
You are human. Act human. Teach your children to eliminate like a human. Of course, this all may be influenced by the tale I heard growing up, that a doctor blamed my mother’s polio on my grandmother’s practice of washing the grapes. The doctor seemed to feel people need a few germs, otherwise you’ll get epidemics because the kid’s immune systems aren’t strong enough. I wouldn’t go that far, but I welcome any microbes that may want to hop a ride on the backs of my thighs.
11 responses to “Hoverers”
The worst part of it is realizing belatedly that a hoverer preceded you in the bathroom. I’m usually in too much of a hurry to fiddle with those annoying, flimsy cover things but I have been known to do a quick wipe-down of the seat with a wad of tissue.TMI! TMI!
I used to hover.But now my thighs get tired so I just sit.
At first glance, I thought this post was going to be about vacuums. Though I’m sure you could make those funny, too.
Final result: Sit – 71.4%Hover – 28.6%That is messed up. Way too much hovering going on.
I still wish I could make bathroom noises on command every time they use the cell phones.And you failed to mention that these slovenly nurses used to throw their wads of protective paper towels on the floor until maintenance installed a second trash can to compensate for their bizarre habits.
The nurses know things you don’t know, like you can get a full blown case of liver- destroying Hepatitis from one tiny spec of poop. Most people have poop on their hands even when using toilet paper and then touch everything on the way to the sink. The sink handles are likely the dirtiest thing in the bathroom. I only hover though if the seat is obviously wet. I have regretted that decision a time or 2 after feeling wetness that I know is not mine upon standing. Then I wish I could boil my butt. Urine is not so bad, it’s sterile as it comes out, but poop is your enemy, beware.
Okay, I’m converted. But couldn’t I just use the paper towel to wash off the sink handles? I’d be happy to wash the handles along with my hands. Its just I find the nurses seem to try to one-up each other with the amount of paper towels they use.
Unless you have alcohol anticeptic to pour over the handles or 1-10 bleach solution I wouldn’t touch those puppies on a bet.I try to frequent bathroom with sensors, then you don’t have to touch a thing.
I totally hover. But I also wipe down the seat afterward for those who do not hover. I’ve always been kind of odd about bathrooms…I took a stand when I was about 5 years old against Port-O-Poties and haven’t looked back. I REFUSE to use them. Even in dire emergencies, I’d rather just go find a bush to hide behind than use a P-O-P. Sorry, off subject. There’s people in our office building who go to the bathroom SPECIFICALLY to be on their cell phones…wtf?! Not only is that rude to the other person, it’s just weird.
I hate the sensor bathrooms. They may be more sterile, but my 3yo will not use them. In fact, as soon as we walk into a public bathroom with a hand dryer, I know she won’t go. She wants peace and quiet while she pees, thank you very much.BTW, what were designers thinking when they put in those awful separate hot and cold water faucets which must be held in place to remain on? How is a person supposed to wash hands properly with those?
Zayrina – The last sensor bathroom I was in only had one working faucet. This was after I had to turn around and glare at the toilet to get it to auto-flush.Autumn -Yes, those are the nurses on our floor. I became more sympathetic when I discovered they had to be on the phone with clients if they were at their desks, so if the wanted to make any personal calls they had to lie, say they had to “go potty” (this is a quote from one of the nurses) ,and then hide in the bathroom and call their families.Caroline – I suppose they save water? I always assumed they were just broken.