THE SQUID WEEKLY​

ISSUE 45

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 Welcome to Public Restroom Etiquette For The Impatient, Potentially Violent Moron. Later our class will divide in three sections, depending on what you personally identify with: stabby, shouty, or politician-y. If you are here for Driving Like A Brain-Dead Chimpanzee or Drinking Your Way To Sobriety classes, please check down the hall in room 131 and 132.
 Great. Let’s start. First off, the basics. Say, you have to go to the bathroom at a restaurant. The best way to excuse yourself from the table is to leave in the middle of a conversation or to simply shout, “OH NO. OH GOD NO. NOT AGAIN.” These exits make it clear you don’t mess around when it comes to urination.
 After wandering around for ten to thirty minutes, you will find the restroom, which unfortunately is only for one person. If the door has an occupied sign, try shaking it in a way that suggests you haven’t taken your medication lately, as if you are going to be trampled by a horde of marauding Huns and all that separates you from salvation is the door to this restroom.
 If you feel so led, smash the door with your fist and know the person inside is cowering in the corner, franticly looking around for a weapon should the monster outside dropkick the door down and murder her, defenseless, alone, thinking, Why, oh why, did I decide to use the Chipotle restroom?
 Most often, nothing will come of your efforts, seeing as the individual inside must physically turn a deadbolt to reveal the occupied sign, and generally this reinforced metal is stronger than the force of your intended intrusion. Do not be disheartened! Passive aggression is active aggression’s sneaky brother that gets what you want without admitting anything is wrong. It’s like closing your eyes and punching someone, then blaming them when they ask why you hit them. 
 Passive aggression can be accomplished by coughing, shuffling your feet loudly, and complaining to people next to you. Like what is the guy doing in there anyways? I might go get the manager. Or Hand me that sledgehammer and let’s see how strong this door is. This should speed up the process, especially if you start counting down loudly.
 When the person inside finally exits, stare them down. Imagine your eyes are death rays and you want to explode their head. Do not—under any circumstances—let them feel justified for using a public restroom. Remember that you had to wait two minutes. With those same two minutes, you could have cured lung cancer, lost ten pounds, whipped a drug addict into shape, renovated a foreclosure and sold it for twice the purchased value, or watched thirty minutes of your favorite TV show.  
 Don’t wait until the person completely exits the restroom to try to get in. Rather make them turn sideways in a vain effort to get out of your way, as if you are a rhino and they are an animal that a rhino would have no qualms about crushing.
 Finally—after like thirty million years spent waiting—you are inside the bathroom. Instantly forget that you were once waiting outside the door and take as much time as you want. The soap will probably be gone, which is okay because basic hygiene is for vegetarians. The toilet paper is at the point where you think there will be enough but there won’t be. No problem. Use some paper towels and then let the next person deal with the repercussions of flushing reinforced paper down the toilet.
 If you are a man, pee on the toilet seat. If you are a woman, spend ten extra minutes asking the mirror, “Who is the prettiest of them all?” When the mirror doesn’t answer, assume it means you look a lot better than Karen.
 Then—and only then—should you exit the restroom. Ignore everyone in the line and return to your table. Once there, sigh audibly and mention there wasn’t any soap. Then sample someone else’s food and remind yourself that you really are the only person that matters in the world. Obviously.
   
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