That’s not their real name, but it’s what I’ve been calling them. They’re the super duper clean toilettes that are much too eager to flush all on their own. They’re independent and don’t need you to tell them when to flush; instead, there’s a sensor on them that reacts to your movements and flushes STAT.

If you’re using the MFT and you shift forward, to the right, to the left or to the back, the over eager MFT flushes away and wets your entire bottom zone as the flushing action makes half the water sploosh upward aiming directly at your bare a**. Sadly, it is not called the Magically Flushing Toilette & Bidet, though this would remedy the situation.

Listen. I am averse to the bidet, but rather to the shock and awe inflicted on me every time I use the stupid MFT. I don’t know how many times I’ve been caught off guard by the sploosh, driven forward nearly knocking myself unconscious against the stall door.

I am being forced to use the MFTs here at work. I don’t sit on public toilettes…so imagine the magnitude of effort I must place into my peeing activity as I teeter precariously above the MFT without making a single movement or risk splooshing. When am in top form, I manage to stop breathing for the duration of the activity and foil the MFTs obvious eagerness to wet my a.s.

I picture perhaps twenty wee impish women in large skirts and bonnets sitting at the sensor area staring out at the user. As soon as there is movement, hysteria and anxiety ensue as the imps rush to flush and keep things clean. “She’s moved! GO! GO! GO! FLUSH! GO! GO! GO! Trail-Toe, you are being too slow and must learn to keep up with the rest of us. Have a muffin.”

That’s not even the awkward part. The awkward part is that when I stand up, I’m not done damn it! Whereas I may be done body function, I am not done cleaning. (Do think I’ve hit an all-time low re blogging topics.) But the flush has already happened! And I refuse to be the woman who leaves the stall while there remains bits of toilette paper floating about in the bowl as a testament to her excellent bladder movements.

I thought I had it all down. I would clean, become properly clothed and then I would sit on the toilette really quickly and get up so the freakish imps could flush once more and eat the toilette paper. Excellent, right? Not quite.

I behaved in this nerdish manner because I believed there was only a sensor available that reacted to your full bodied movements. Until today when I witnessed a woman step into one of the stalls and flush it by pushing a button. I was appalled. I stood frozen staring at her and asked: “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“FLUSH!”
“What do you mean?”
“HowDidYouFlushWithoutSittingOnTheMagicSeat?”
“Uhm. Are you okay?”
“NO! TELL ME. PLEASE!”
“I pushed the button!”
“WHAT “button“?” (I actually made bunny ears with my fingers.)
“This “button”.” (She made them back, the cow.)
“Oh my God. There’s a button. I don’t have to sit anymore.” (I almost started crying.)

So this entry just in case you too have been behaving as I…which is: as a nerd.