Work

Institutional toilets are a hit and miss affair. Well, I can’t help but enjoy the warm clean clinical situation of the art school, or the art centre (before they moved theirs outdoors for major redevelopment – and I have high expectations of the new toilet facilities.) The art school was the first time I broke the unspoken rule of every young boy ‘ No Shitting at School’ .I can never quite figure out why this rule existed, and I remember coming across significant evidence of some kids breaking this law. Maybe it’s something that I fabricated. Something I applied (unspoken) to everyone hoping that I’m not being weird. The rule however somehow has carried, not into the art school but into the work place. I never shit at work. This has never been a significant problem. The room is reminiscent of the school toilet. Very grey, flaking paint. Disconcerting signs that regulate the space with logo and slogans ‘Make Handwashing a Habit’. Two cubicles and two urinals, if possible I only use the toilets if the room is empty of my colleagues. The room has a bit of clutter, a bucket and several boxes of industry standard paper handtowels. The cubicles itch with graffiti, currently homophobia is the major theme, taking the baton from racism some months ago. A few poorly made A4 posters (which is a generous description for a printed word document) advertise some kind of charity raffle, which I don’t know much about, the font is too small and I’m not about to hang about here reading. The smell is unpleasant in a chemical rather than natural way; I’m not sure which is worse. I make handwashing a habit, and leave.