I was at the party of new friend when I realised I had to pee. This wasn’t surprising; I was on my second glass of wine and I have a bladder the size of a grape.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked my host.
“Right over there,” he said, gesturing to a door off the main room.
Find out how Jane shares a bathroom with 14 people on Somewhere Else:
I pushed my way through the crowd, slipped into the bathroom, and closed the door. But when I went to lock it, my heart sank. There was no lock.
Oh god, I thought. I was in one of those houses. I would have to pee with an unsecured door.
The house was ringing with noise, a cacophony of music and voices and laughter. There was no way I would hear someone knock on the bathroom door, and there was no way to stop them barging in.
Worse, the toilet was directly opposite the door, so if someone did open the door when I was mid pee, I’d be pants down, on display, for the whole party to see.
It was terribly stressful. I whipped down my jeans and peed as fast as I could, rushing the process so I could get them up again as quickly as possible.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I washed my hands and decided to forgo more wine for the rest of the evening. I didn’t want to risk a second potentially public urination.
I don’t understand houses that don’t have locks in the bathrooms, or – perhaps more accurately – I don’t understand their occupants. In what universe is doing a wee not a private activity? What motivates someone to leave a bathroom door unlatched?
Of course, I understand that not everyone feels the need to lock their toilet door, and I respect their right not to do so.
But to not even offer the option of a lock confuses and dismays me. Surely you want your guests to feel comfortable in your bathroom? I mean, not so comfortable that they take up residence there, or use all your toiletries, or take a bath during a party, but comfortable enough so that they can pee without fear.
“How can you not have a lock on the toilet door?” I asked a friend, whose lack of bathroom security has caused me all sorts of angst.
“Because it didn’t come with the house,” she answered.
This was a most unsatisfactory answer. After all, there were many things that didn’t come with the house, but were added by my friend once she moved in. Curtains, for example. A chicken coop. The television. How hard could it be to install a lock?
Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe that people are entitled to not have locks on their bathroom doors. It may be baffling at best and inconsiderate at worst, but I am all for freedom of home furnishings and fixtures.
I do feel, however, that as a courtesy to guests, their houses should come with a warning sign. There should be a placard on the front door, and a note on all invitations; something like Lock Free Zone, or Open Bathroom Door Policy, or BYO Guard or Pee at Your Own Peril.
I’d still visit these homes, but I’d be prepared. I’d pee before I got there, and I’d watch my water intake, and I’d avoid dripping taps, and I’d leave before I needed the loo.
And I definitely wouldn’t drink that second glass of wine.