Feelings on automatic restrooms run hot, cold

When my husband pointed out the red circle with a slash through it on my forehead, I was puzzled.

Peering into the mirror, I saw an imprint that looked vaguely like a “no forehead” sign. Then I remembered.

“It’s that darn toilet’s fault,” I mumbled.

“You’ve got a toilet injury on your head?”

Sensing his disbelief, I recounted my experience with the facilities at the Indian Trail Library.

When they built this beautiful library, the restrooms came equipped with the latest in toilet technology – automated flushing.

In fact everything in the bathroom is automated. This isn’t always a good thing.

For instance, the lights are sensor-operated, so you’re briefly in the dark until the bathroom notices you’re there.

The faucets are also sensor triggered. Many times I’ve walked in to find women futilely waving their hands around.

They’re not conducting an invisible symphony; they’re trying to get the water to run.

The toilets have their own problem. They flush randomly and without warning.

I was trying to pull up my pantyhose one morning when the commode roared into action.

Startled, I leapt into the stall door lock, which left its imprint on my forehead.

To my husband’s amusement I began a little research into the automated flushing phenomenon.

I hadn’t visited so many public bathrooms since I last had a tot to toilet-train.

None of the restrooms I visited had the surprise factor of the library’s toilet, but the McDonald’s on the Newport Highway deserves special mention for sheer volume.

When that toilet roared to life, I grabbed the edge of the stall, certain that I was going down.

I wasn’t alone in this observation. I met my 11-year-old in front of the facilities. His eyes were huge.

“Did you hear that?” he exclaimed. “It sounded like Niagara Falls!”

The Shadle Library’s toilets weren’t frightening, but their automated sinks ran for only about 10 seconds. Ten seconds of running water isn’t enough for good hygiene.

I joined another lady in waving wet fingers in front of the faucet, trying to get enough water to do the job properly.

I observed that the places that don’t have automatic toilets are the places that need them most, notably the two gasoline stations I visited and the movie theaters in NorthTown.

If ever a place needs flushing technology, it’s the cinema.

Have you ever tried to sit through a two-hour movie, plus previews and commercials, after drinking a supersize soda?

It was at NorthTown that I finally learned to appreciate technology. The restrooms in the cinema are very dark.

In the dim light I found myself unsure of the cleanliness of the facility, and I didn’t want to touch the toilet handle. I opted to use my foot to flush.

Big mistake. I forgot I was wearing slip-on leather clogs.

My slip-on slipped off. While fishing my Birkenstock from the commode, the value of automated flushing hit home.

Now my circle-slash mark has faded, and I’m learning not to be alarmed when the library toilet flushes when I enter the stall.

I’m just grateful both my shoes are dry.