Bathroom Etiquette...

Is there such a thing? Well there sure wasn't in the restroom I visited at this beachside restaurant in Monterey.

First of all--and I'm not sure the ladies have to endure this--every once in a while you happen into a restroom only to be confronted by a chorus of obscenely barbaric grunts and moans emanating from one of the stalls. Well it just so happened to be one of those occasions.

So naturally I wanted to finish my business and have done with the place before the transgressor reared his barbaric head and exited the stall. I mean, I certainly didn't want to make eye contact with someone who fancies yodeling on the rim of a toilette.

Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough, and Mr. groan-a-lot stepped from his echoing cave and into the bright light of the civilized world.

So I hastily made room at the sink, where I was washing my hands, to avoid being brushed up against or, worse, splashed with his microbes.

But guess what?--he didn't even bother to wash his hands!

After all that strenuous work in there, the man didn't have the decency to clean up after himself! And what's worse--I had to wrap my hand in gobs of paper towels to avoid his Neanderthal germs that were, no doubt, already breeding on the bathroom doorknob.