For a group of people so often regarded as loud and brash, Americans are oddly coy when referring to anything to do with bodily functions. Maybe my memory is deceiving me, but in the UK I don't recall it being a bad thing to ask, in most restaurants or public places, if someone could point you in the direction of the "toilets". After all, that is what you wish to use and, therefore, that is what you ask for.
But here, everyone does their best to come up with a different label. It could be a washroom, a bathroom, a restroom - really any type of room, as long it doesn't mention what you are actually going there to do. Personally I have settled on calling it a 'restroom', because it is accent-neutral and therefore most likely not to be met with a blank look. But not once have I gone there to have a rest.
During a recent meal out, I had visited the room in question, and was the only one in there. Then the door swung open, and in walked a gentleman - silver-haired, mustachioed, with an air of being generally pleased at how his life was panning out. He walked up to the urinal next to mine, making me suddenly conscious of the fact that there were only two of them, and took up position.
There we stood, solemn, elbow to elbow. I'd like to say we struck up conversation, realized we got on famously, exchanged business cards, and went on our way with laughter and backslaps. Actually, we just stood there, with only the dripping tap and distant music from the restaurant to break the silence.
Until, that is, the silence was broken by something altogether more horrifying - the unmistakable sound of the man, um, passing wind. "Oh, excuse me" he said, in a surprised way. What is the correct response to that, I thought? I searched back through a lifetime of social experiences and could not find the right answer. "Bless you" - as if it's a sneeze? "No problem"?
I really was not sure, so I opted for the mature response - namely to wash my hands as fast as I could, race back into the restaurant, and create a wall of menus around my table to ensure that I avoided eye contact with the man for the rest of the evening. Perhaps I have just led a sheltered life, I thought. After that experience, now I understand the level of embarrassment that lies behind all these misleading room names.
