Gene Weingarten has a funny column about something he calls “Poop Shame.” This is embarrassment that comes from pooping in a public place.
One man keeps a second pair of shoes in his desk, which he smuggles into the bathroom and puts on in the stall so that no one knows it is him in there, doing that awful thing.
Women have confessed to participating in excruciating standoffs: bathroom duels, where two or more find themselves in neighboring stalls, each holding off on The Act, waiting for the other(s) to leave. It’s sort of the opposite of the shootout at the O.K. Corral.
Lately, I’ve been hearing tales of toilet tent-building. Appalled at the gap between stall and door that might allow others to know at a glance who is in there, people hang toilet-paper down to cover it.
All of these Poop Shame strategies strike me as insane. I say, I poop and I’m proud!
Unless it’s noisy. Or sort of stinks. (In these cases, please don’t look at me.)