Once again, I've been reminded of the baffling design of women's public restrooms. Specifically, that worrisome gap around stall doors. I swear it's gotten bigger. Or is it that peering eyes give an exaggerated sense of scale?
I used to have nightmares about such things. I say "used to" because, with shrinking privacy in the real world, that horror has transferred to waking life. So now my brain has switched to zombie outbreak scenarios for its somnambulant thrills. Which are a hoot, actually, but that's beside the point.
I know they can be done better. I've visited establishments (higher end than Target, admittedly) that have restrooms memorable for their thoughtful features. And I've had friends visiting from other countries who were appalled by what U.S. women are putting up with.
Apparently, the average Jane on a shopping outing doesn't warrant the basic dignity afforded to cleaning supplies. Think about it; are there peek-a-boo strips around the doors of janitor's closets? Hmm? And it is basic. After all, we're talking about a necessary process that occurs not just every day, but multiple times a day. And that's assuming Jane isn't in the first two weeks of a low-carb diet (Hello Hershey Squirts!). Surely, more than a passing thought should go into designing these spaces.
I'm not one to condone thievery. Heck, I'm usually the one alerting the authorities. But I wouldn't blame a gal for stealthily pocketing a roll of two-inch (one-inch isn't enough - trust me) wide blue painter's tape on the way to the facilities.
What? I'm just sayin'.
Extenuating circumstances, your Honor!
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