Flush, Dammit

When I first moved to San Francisco in 1992, Northern California was coming off a bit of a drought. The trendy thing to do was to skip flushing the toilet when one had merely urinated. There were cutesy little signs in some restaurants which read “If it’s yellow, please be mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.” or simply “Don’t flush for pee.” The product of a long dry spell augmented by a little too much patchouli, I assumed at the time, thinking it might be a trend which would go away eventually…

But it hasn’t, despite the end of the aforementioned drought. And I’m really fucking tired of walking up to urinals in public restrooms and taking a big, involuntary whiff the fresh, steaming piss left by the asshole who used it just before me. Get a clue: you’re not the environmentalist you think you are. You’re just a rude, disgusting slob who can’t even follow a basic rule of public hygiene. You are not in your own home. You are in a public place. And what the fuck did you have for lunch today anyhow?

There. I’ve said it. I feel better now. Thanks for listening…