Thinking about automatica.

You know…things that make you go, Mmmmm. No, not -those- things, the things that are supposed to make our lives easier because they do virtually everything for us. They have taken the place of our actually moving, so that we can be, well…forgetful.

There’s a building on campus, 25 University Ave, actually, that was remodeled a few years ago. It used to be the old music building, now it houses the Bursar and several other classrooms. I don’t like the bathrooms, and this is my observation on the words “new” & “improved” & “automatic.”

The toilets in this new building flush for you. Like so many other new restroom features, it’s not astounding by itself. In fact, I’m sure the automatic flush has been around for quite some time. It’s the timing of the flush that worries me. How, over the years the speed at which you’re meant to “do your business” has gone from one of a casual nature, to down right, getting things done.

According to the restrooms at 25 University Ave, you’re not really supposed to spend any amount of time on the toilet. None. It might be a case of over sensitive sensors, or faulty sensors. Either way, halfway through your business, the toilet automatically tells you that you are to have -no- more business, and it whisks away everything that could prove you were even there in the first place.

Then again several seconds later when you’re actually done, then again when you’re done -done-.

No one in the bathroom talks about this. This flush discrepancy. This automatica overload. This shortened response time.

Women rush to do their business, single toilets flush 3 or 4 times as sensors  are triggered over and over again.

The red single flush button mocks the users next to the blinking sensor light above the toilet bowl.

Blinking. Blinking. blinking.

Flush.

I’d give my left hand for a handle to push. Something tangible next to all this automatic bullshit. Something I could push when I want, when I’m good and ready. When I’m finally fucking done.