Saturday, June 11, 2016

Bathroom sads.

This kind of thing always makes me a little sad. 


When you have to have a little bottle of hand soap instead of having soap in the dispenser. What could this mean?

I see three, not independent possibilities. Either someone has failed to get refills for the dispenser; they are unable to get refills for the dispenser; or the dispenser has stopped working. Any of these is bad tidings.

When a restaurant, shop, or other establishment falls down on the soap job, it's bad tidings. Covering up by getting a bottle of hand soap at least shows responsibility, but there's a reason that only very highfalutin joints avoid the wall-mounted dispenser: people engage in petty larceny. Plus, those bottles don't hold that much. If this bathroom is busy, that soap is going to vanish, one way or another.

It's worrisome too if the dispenser is unfillable or busted. It takes commitment to manage things at times like these; lacking such commitment, you wind up with a permanent ornament of dysfunction wedded to the wall, or a bracket where it used to be, which is just one of those signs that no one gives a damn anymore.

Maybe I'm overly sensitive to this, but I've done my tours in public schools. I know what not giving a damn looks like.

This bathroom has not reached the critical stage yet, not by a long shot. The towel dispenser still works---and still has towels! The lock on the door functions. The toilet flushes and is not repellent. There are lightbulbs. This soap bottle situation may have just been a temporary expedient while supplies are delayed or something.

Still, you have to beware the little things. First you have a nonworking dispenser; next, you're drying your hands on your pants; then the toilet itself performs a knockback feat when you walk in because of its state of grunginess. It's easy for this stuff to get out of hand, and it generally starts with the hand soap.

No comments: