In 1978 I was witnessing the dramatic emotional rollercoaster’s and soap operas stories of my friends while they discovered ‘going out’ with each other. Fascinating. Tearful toilet consultations, betrayals in the school playground, ambushing at the school gates, but worst of all for me – underwear became important. One girlfriend took me aside to provide worldly advice on behalf of my concerned girlfriends. The advice was:
Wendy, you really should wear a bra, they look a disaster
At home I asked mum ‘can I have a bra?’, ‘yes dear, if you want’. Gosh that was easy. We went to the localM&S where they measured the relevant pasts of my body and I tried on several ‘‘training’ bras. Training because evidently I needed to practice bra wearing skills. Even the smallest training bra was less that half empty on me. It seemed silly, mum and I persisted in this pubescently significant purchase, neither of us overtly questioning the need. I wore the elasticated mini-monstrosity to school. At school the straps were twanged by all sundry as we moved between classes. I didn’t wear it again. ‘Disaster’ was a less painful experience than strap-twang-burns Ever since then I have regularly failed carefully provided training-to-be-female exercises.
Jilted John sang Jilted John the ‘B’ side was ‘going steady’ (with Susan)
Person-1: Did you ACTUALY say RESTROOM break? (Face expresses what looks like incredulity)
Wendy: errr….um….yes, I lived in the US for 8 years and it still hasn’t quite worn of…Person-2: you’ve lost a lot of your American accent …
I am still labouring under the potential misapprehension that I have never had an American accent. It’s clear that I picked up a lot of US words. I like them, their meaning appears understood locally if experienced as out of place with my reputedly cute accent.
Unfortunately, even on the rare occasions that I say ‘You rock, that was super-awesome’ (UK meaning: ‘thank you that was jolly good’) I exude an air of trouble-with-sincerity to the locals that can induce both grimacing or giggling depending on the disposition of the listeners…
wandering through an empty mall, alone, wearing fitted jeans and t-shirt, I stopped at the information centre for some vital information:
Wendy: Excuse me, can you tell me where the restrooms are? (Soprano voice)
I still haven’t sufficiently re-adjusted to England to actually say the word ‘toilet’ out loud in a public place without sniggering.
Mall Information lady (MIL): Toilets?
Wendy: Yes (smiles, manages not to giggle)
MIL: Womens? (no hint of a smile, a stern facial expression)
Wendy: …..Yes?… (stops smiling and listens to the directions from the seemingly grumpy looking MIL)
The Ladies toilets were next to the mens toilets. The directions to find either of them were the same. Why do you think the MIL wanted to establish with me whether I was asking for womens or mens toilets?
My outline form in said Jeans and a t-shirt (flickr photoshare)
Garden designer guest: it’s not many people that can look straight into their garden when sitting on their toilet
I will have to put something in the line of view to make it a tad more pleasurable than just patio and fence. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’ve been contemplating the garden rather a lot recently…
According to the principles of Feng Shui, I should change the layout of the bathroom, keep this door closed, change the colour scheme from blue and white to red and red then add a few candles or my career will flow into the sewers. Alas, I’m way too busy building my career and going on holiday to bother with arranging and paying for builders to rebuild my bathroom in a Feng Shui approvable layout and colour scheme. Pleasing plants in line of view will have to suffice.
Not ‘are you apprehended by the police for the ghastly crime of insufficient height’ but another clever euphemism for wanting to go to the toilet. The city of Westminster has signs to help you out with clever stick-people designs to illustrate the problem for those people who don’t understand the idiom ‘caught short’. My favourite part of the sign is the invitation to text toilet, for a toilet. Hoorah, no euphemisims there just send a text saying what you need, effectively the bottom-line…
It’s as if builders are planning for obescity on a large scale. The door to the (toilet) restroom in my temporary accommodation is about twice the width of any doors in the new old wendy house. I have to stand in awe for a moment before I pass through them….
I hurridly put my keys (car, both house, mailbox) in my back pocket when I came in. I don’t normally keep them there, too uncomfortable to sit on I was in a hurry to use the 0.5 bathroom. After relief I flushed, pulled-up my trousers, and heard
shhhhplink
I turned to catch a brief horrorful glimpse of my keys sitting in the bowl before they dashed around this bend swiftly followed by my hand. Never to be seen again. Panic followed by thankfulness for my spare sets. Must get another spare set quickly because this is the sort of accident that gravitates towards me at times when I need more composure than normal.
The symbolism of losing my house and car keys this way could be a tad disconcerting if I was supersticious, which I’m not.
If you asked an English publican, in England, what their ‘rotating tap’ was they would likely look at you quizzically as they explain that it is the thing in the toilets that you turn to get water for hand-washing after having completed the necessaries. In the UK tap is a common referent for a fawcett.
A disconcerting reply to an unsuspecting US person who tries to avoid using vulgar terms like TOILET when the words Bathroom or restroom are more acceptable referents for a room with a toilet in it. Draft beers are described as being ‘on tap’ so after the initial surpirse the move to understanding your actual meaning will not be hard.
By contrast, if you go into a NW US bar and ask what are their guest beers they give you a quizzical look and after some basic clarification they will tell you that what you actually mean is what is their rotating tap. Doh!
it’s just not clear if this sign is labelling products for or products by ‘feminine’s as trash. Maybe it’s a deliberate ambiguity and the reference covers both! Hooray! My only remaining confusion is why such a powerful, useful, sign is hidden in a toilet rest room cubicle
replace the US euphemism restrooms with a word the English bastardized from the lyrical toilette. Knowledge of this word and its proper use in England is essential if you are caught short after a couple of excellent sized real Ales, as indeed I may well have been when I took this photograph:
The UK Government has a department called the ‘Privy Council” that looks after professional institutions that are incorporated by Royal Charter (e.g. Univerisities, the BBC, Opera houses, Cities) and acts as a court of appeal for overseas territories. Royal charter makes these organisations ‘incorporated’ which appears to mean that they have the rights of an individual. Privy is a UK slang term for ‘outhouse’ or TOILET.
Read no further if you have a sensitive disposition.
Wearing my white Levi trousers to meet cutomers when it’s ‘that’ time of the month? A recklessly dodgy decision because of the ever-present leakage opportunities.
…RED…
Laundress
In the bathroom, I pulled off my trousers placed the offending red marks under the hotwater tap. Result? A small fresh red mark becomes a large pink swirly pattern. Other ladies in the bathroom inspecting my tattoos, scrawny legs, and making ‘every girl’s worst nightmare’ comments while I stand humiliated and trouserless at the sink. After 30 mins grappling with tap and trousers I had a pair of trousers with a large wet patch around the groin and down the inside legs. No noticable pink. I spent the next 15 minutes using the paper hand-towels (no warm air dryer available) to soak-up excess water thereby reducing the impression that I had a different, more yellow, leakage problem.
Actress
Meeting the customer. Hoping the damp patches on my trousers were sufficiently subtle to be unnoticable below my glittering yellow wonkey-tooth smile, big nose, and conversational charm. Acting as if my trousers were not extremely prickly uncomfortable.
Will the USA euphemisms for ‘go to the TOILET‘ never cease? I have to admire their perpetual creativity. Maybe it’s the new frontier, lavatory linguistics? Now they can no longer literally ‘go west’ they ‘go to the rest rooms’ and invent brave new words for the experience to baffle the foriegners. Splendid, I’ll play, after a quick ‘de-hydration squirt’
I tend to use the loo to have a pee or take a dump. It is probably a strikingly similar experience without the spiritually inspiring label. Maybe I need to put some religous symbols in my loo rest rooms to help local visitors feel rested.
Our Barcelonean correspondent, Eyan, wants to know about the Microsoft Word selection of Synonyms for that naughty word:
Why isn’t toilet in the Word synonyms dictionary for British English? Are we being coy? Sweeping things under the carpet again?
I think it’s outrageous Toilet water and toilet block are there, but no toilet. What is a guy to do ? It’s there for US English, but not for British English.
I’m baffled, I’ll have to rest in a room for a while to wonder whether the water closet (WC) should come out of the closet and declare itself a toilet
US people appear to avoid using this word. When in restaurants they use the phrase ’Rest rooms’. Descriptions of homes for sale may include 1.5 ‘bathrooms’. The 0.5 bathroom is one without a bath (uh?!) or a shower. It appears to mean a room with a sink and a toilet. Even toilet paper is labeled ‘Bathroom’ tissue.
‘toilet humour’ exists in the US. I’m not sure if it is known or referred to by this category.
Toilet water and toilet block are there, but no toilet. What is a guy to do ? It’s there for US English, but not for British English.
