We happened upon this little number in Tallin, Estonia...notice how in the photos I'm not technically going anywhere near this toilet. Which, is also "technically" how I go to the bathroom in any public restroom. Sorry. There you have it. I stand (or more accurately: crouch). This is not usually my cup of tea, but you should see some of the toilets I have been in.
My sister Kim just reminded me of a story that brings me great dissatisfaction. Once, while in some European country and I'm sorry but I can't really remember which one, but what does it matter? Anyway, there was no toilet paper in the stall where I was. I looked through my bag, my pockets, for anything. Nothing. Any sign of tissue. Nothing. Only a couple of wadded up funny moneys from a different country. I called out to my neighbors. The few there either didn't answer, or didn't speak English. And so, I'm embarrassed to admit, I examined my money to see which one was the smallest value, and of those, which one was the dirtiest and yuckiest (therefore worthy of wasting in this way) and I used a Euro to wipe my butt. A money. Dirty, disgusting money. Passed through thousands of hands, and millions of germs. And countless situations. Touching my most intimate and private parts.
Looking back, I regret not choosing the most crisp and clean bill.
And now you know.