The NYT is a shitty excuse for a newspaper.
There once was a woman who walked regularly from her office in Midtown Manhattan to a hotel across the street in order to use the restroom, and that woman may have been one of us.
That woman had a friend, at another office job, who carried a book of matches and a can of air freshener in her purse — more willing to set off the office fire alarm than leave any hint of odor in a public lavatory.
That friend had another friend, at another office job, who repeatedly forced her body to do the deed so quickly — racing from cubicle to bathroom and back, in an effort to deflect attention from what she might be doing in there — that it led to a semi-serious hemorrhoid problem.
As her former colleague put it: “She was pooping at the speed of pee.”
Remember the children’s book, “Everyone Poops”? It is meant to teach kids that defecating is a natural, healthy part of digestion, and it does so by illustrating a wide variety of creatures — dogs, cats, snakes, whales, hippos, little boys — happily defecating. But you know who you won’t see defecating in that book, happily or unhappily? Women.
We may be living in an age where certain pockets of the corporate world are breathlessly adapting to women’s needs — company-subsidized tampons, salary workshops, lactation rooms. But even in the world’s most progressive workplace, it’s not a stretch to think that you might have an empowered female executive leading a meeting at one moment and then sneaking off to another floor to relieve herself, the next.
Poop shame is real — and it disproportionately affects women, who suffer from higher rates of irritable bowel syndrome and inflammatory bowel disease. In other words, the patriarchy has seeped into women’s intestinal tracts. Let’s call it the pootriarchy.
To defeat the pootriarchy use Poo-pourri!
Girls aren’t born with poo shame — it’s something they’re taught.
In “Psychology in the Bathroom,” the psychologist Nicholas Haslam writes that girls tend to be toilet trained earlier than boys, learning at a young age to neatly keep their bodily functions contained (our words, not his).
When those girls get a bit older, they learn to pass gas silently — while boys do it loudly, and think it’s hilarious. (Yes, there is a kind of Kinsey scale to gas-passing and it goes like this: According to a study called “Fecal Matters” that was published in a journal called “Social Problems,” adult heterosexual men are far more likely to engage in scatological humor than heterosexual women and are more likely to report intentionally passing gas. Gay men are less likely to intentionally pass gas than heterosexual women, and lesbian women are somewhere in between.)
“If a boy farts, everyone laughs, including the boy,” said Sarah Albee, the author of “Poop Happened!: A History of the World from the Bottom Up.” “If a girl farts, she is mortified.”
I always laugh when I fart. That’s why I’m laughing right now.
But girls don’t poop.
I would know. I grew up in a house with one bathroom and I have a mom and a sister. And I was married. Twice. And I have a daughter. None of them pooped. Ever.
On the other hand, I know about poop shame. I also know how filthy most public restrooms are. Plus I once saw a movie where a guy gets killed while sitting on the toilet. That is why I never poop in public restrooms. As a guy, I can use a public restroom to pee without ever touching anything with my hands – just the soles of my shoes. But sit on a public toilet? Not even with a hundred paper ass-gaskets between me and the seat.