Remind me again, does the ladies’ room sign start with a character that looks like cross stitching, or is it the character kind of like a stick figure with a window for a head? In a visit to Japan years ago, I found it so difficult to decipher the kanji signs that I usually just loitered around until someone went in or out to give me a clue. In one fairly upscale restaurant, I was kindly escorted to the restroom door, and when I stepped through, I discovered that I was standing beside the men’s urinal, which was currently in use, and that I’d have to walk past it (eyes carefully averted) to get to the women’s room.
Apparently the Japanese find Western ways equally baffling. In my hotel bathroom, there was a small metal plate affixed to the wall showing an outline drawing of a male figure and a toilet, with a little dotted line showing an arc of urine traveling from the little outline penis into the little outline toilet bowl.
One day in Yokohama, a friend and I found a freestanding public restroom on a busy street. We went into the ladies' side (for once, clearly marked with a graphic) and when it came time to flush, I looked around and saw there were no levers, just two large buttons on the wall, one red and one black. I chose the black, which seemed to do the trick, but my friend pressed the red one. Immediately lights began flashing and sirens sounded with an urgency usually reserved for times when the spaceship is about to explode and you have ten seconds left to evacuate. We raced out into the street and got about thirty yards down the sidewalk. Glancing back, I saw half a dozen people wearing uniforms and surgical masks trotting towards the facility. Paramedics? Hazmat squad? Swat team? I’ll never know, as my friend and I decided that our best option was to skedaddle.
The mere act of going to the bathroom, taking a shower or even washing your clothes can be risky business in many places I’ve traveled. For more, check out my new album “Keep it Clean!” on my Facebook page.
Photo courtesy of dianaschnuth/flickr.
So Rich says to the horse, "I bet you five dollars I can tell you where you got your shoes..."
This horse doesn't like losing the five dollars. Here, he appears to be eating Rich. .
So Rich and I are walking along a deserted street in New Orleans, and this tall, good-looking young man comes up to us and remarks, in a charming Southern drawl, that he hopes we are enjoying his fair city. A bit warily (we’ve read a lot of stories about untoward events that start this way) we agree that yes, we love New Orleans. The young man gets a twinkle in his eye.
He says to Rich, “I bet you five dollars I can tell you where you got your shoes.”
Obviously, this is a bet we can’t lose. Obviously, there is a catch.
“OK,” says Rich. “It’s a bet.”
The young man grins. “You got your shoes on your feet.”
Rich is laughing so hard he can barely extract the five from his wallet and hand it over. It’s the best bet we ever lost.
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As my regular readers know, I never get free or discounted goods or services for mentioning anything on this blog (or anywhere else). I only write about things that interest me and that I believe might prove useful for you all to know about. Whew! I wanted to clear that up before we went any further. Thanks for listening.
I'm an American travel writer based in Seville, Spain and currently visiting my home state of California.
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