Call it what you will. Toilet. Loo. John. Water closet. Washroom. Restroom. Bathroom. Head. I understand what you mean–a room, of varying size, space, comfort, and cleanliness, that provides, at a minimum, a toilet, toilet paper, sink and (hopefully) soap.
I like to think of myself as a public restroom expert. I have no qualms regarding walking into a hotel, five-star or otherwise, to use the restroom. In the States, I know where I can expect clean, spacious restrooms: high-end hotels and restaurants. And I know where to avoid using the restrooms: nearly everywhere else. That said, having traveled across country by vehicle several times, I can make do with whatever is available. Fortunately, the toilets in Japan are an entirely different caliber than those anywhere else in the world. The number of functions and buttons found on a public restroom toilet is dizzying. (They also provide children’s toilet seats, which is fantastic while potty training.) I digress.
Obviously, I’ve used single-sex restrooms. I’ve used restrooms specifically designated for women (or ladies, as the case may be). But I’ve also used restrooms designated for men when in a pinch. What woman hasn’t? I’ve used unisex restrooms. You know, a single room with a lock on the door, which anyone may use. But I’ve also used unisex bathrooms housing a series of stalls (with doors) to be used by men and women alike. In that case, one only notices who’s who while entering, exiting, or using the vanity. That is, of course, only if one cares to pay attention. I don’t.
When I use a public bathroom, my goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible. While I fancy myself pleasant, generally, while using the restroom typically I mind my own business. I do not chat with strangers. And I do not hang out in–or otherwise prolong my visit to–the loo. Regardless of my W.C. usage, one thing has stayed consistent: never once have I been afraid of who might be in the stall next to me. Never.
I do not understand the need the legislate who uses what restroom. Today, at the Naval hospital, I watched a male Marine take his three-year old daughter into the men’s toilet. I didn’t think a thing of it, other than to note that the Marine didn’t seem worried, scared or otherwise concerned that his daughter was entering a men’s restroom. The issue was his daughter needed to use the toilet. And so she did. In a stall. In a men’s bathroom. It’s all quite routine. And quite boring, really.
If you want a smaller government with less regulation, you don’t want such legislation. If you think calls to regulate the consumption of soda is ridiculous, you, too, should think that regulating who uses what toilet is beyond the pale. If you have common sense, you likely will find such a law offensive. At a minimum, you would have to find the legislature’s time, effort and energy a waste of taxpayer dollars, not to mention the costs associated with the enforcement and prosecution of such laws.
So, who would support such a law? Those ignorant enough to confuse transgendered people with pedophiles, rapists or other sexual predators, a la Republican presidential candidate Ted Cruz. Such people deserve to be called out on their uneducated fearmongering. Indeed, if one wants to discuss safety in restrooms, let’s discuss the teenage girl who was killed in a girl’s high school bathroom, allegedly, by other girls. Or we can discuss former Republican Senator Larry Craig’s (male) actions in a men’s bathroom. At the time, Senator Craig was dressed as a male and he was–and remains–married to his wife, Suzanne Craig.
I stand with Donald Trump on this one. People don’t have a difficult time deciding which restroom to use. If you were anatomically born a male, but have since elected to dress as a woman, take hormones and/or undergo surgery to look like a woman, legally change your name to a woman’s name, and live each day as a woman, you use the woman’s restroom. Period. This isn’t a problem that needs a solution.