I’m sorry, but you couldn’t pay me enough to take this job. Sure, I understand that some people are so “down and out” that any job is a good job. Butt really, spending your days in a toilet? Even if it’s the beginning of your life and you are saving money to buy that new toy you want. Even worse, when it’s the twilight of your life… why would someone take this job?

And when I say toilet, I have to clarify. No, this isn’t a nice hotel, restaurant, or theater, where a courteous gentleman or woman in official dress offers to dry your hands or provide you with a squirt of perfume or cologne (perhaps for a dollar) before returning to your seat. Nope. This is a toilet (туалет) that rarely has paper, that may have dividers, that may include porcelain, is generally enclosed without windows, exudes gag-provoking fecal fumes, encourages “no contact” behavior, and sometimes has sufficient lighting to see what you are doing. Then, to add insult to bladder-bursting injury… you have to pay for it.

Butt wait, you cannot simply place a coin in a jar. Someone would steal it… duh! There is actually someone who spends the better part of their waking day (dare I say life) collecting about 15 cents from each customer, per use of the “facility.” Well, unless I feel that I’m about to cause irreversible, irrevocable damage to critical internal organs, I will not pay for a toilet. Something seems wrong about living in a city where people pay taxes and having to pay again to do something that everyone has to do (by design) every single day of their lives. I’d much rather use the need to use the restroom as a good excuse to grab a drink in a local shop that has a bathroom for it’s customers. I guess not everyone can or want to spend money like that.

Nevertheless, when one’s wife is well into her pregnancy, requiring the use of a restroom every hour or two (tops), there are inevitably going to be times when even this place appears like a gold mine. I thought it might be worthy of a picture.

In fact, this was one of the nicer establishments I’ve seen. But when my wife left the corrugated metal enclave, she looked as though she was about to vomit – and not, she wasn’t about to go back inside to do it.

[flashvideo file=videos/toilet.FLV /]

A waddling market goer.

I also began thinking about the money exchange taking place inside. This, I’m afraid, is just wrong. It goes against human nature, I think. One wants to bury the leaves they used to wipe their ass, not use them as “change for a 20.” Talk about speading “germs.” And then I was thinking… the person in the toilet must actually be responsible for cleaning, to some extent. Gnarly.

My advice: Make sure you always carry exact change!

Or, just consider your overpayment a donation to the cause…