Show of hands. Who here has recently had someone turn the knob on them in a public bathroom without knocking first?
Okay, hands down.
Who here can remember the last time someone actually knocked to announce their presence while you were using a public bathroom? Anyone?
Of course I’m talking about the one-unit bathrooms here, not those with lots of doors whose locks never work anyway. In the several-stalls variety, people generally seem to at least attempt foot-gazing before pushing your door in.
When I was growing up I was taught to knock on a closed door. Front door, bedroom door, bathroom door, whatever. This still seems courteous to me, not to mention its aid in avoiding, um, uncomfortable situations.
So whatever happened to knocking on the doors of public bathrooms before attempting entry? I might understand if said offenders were unattended children. I did plenty of the mom’s-not-looking-so-I-can-stop-following-her-instructions business. But people older than me? Really?
But as I was thinking about this today after getting the knob-turn-scare for the umpteenth time recently, I realized that… guh!…Â there are times when I don’t knock before turning the knob. What’s gotten in to me!? I’m an almost-peeping-tom AND a hypocrite!
Okay, there are occasions when I try the handle before knocking because I know I won’t be able to hear the occupant anyway. Music and ruckus are unbearably loud in too many places these days and I’ll let them play the scapegoat for some of this. But what about the other times? The truth is… well…Â IÂ just. don’t. know.
What I do know is that one day when my heart isn’t as healthy as it is now, someone is going to suddenly try the knob while I’m midstream and the resulting jump in my startled heart is going to stop it cold. Then that no-knocker is going to have to find the management after she’s been holding it for ten more looooong minutes and together they will discover granny keeled over half-naked, drenched in her own pee. Genuinely lovely sight, I assure you.
So in hopes of not provoking said granny situation, I’m going to force myself to practice knocking again. If I don’t hear a response, I will do what, not being an exhibitionist and all, I would prefer being done for me: I’ll slowly turn the handle, slowly push the door forward with my eyes down, and actively listen for someone to panic on the other side. I think this might avoid unpleasantries in loud ruckus-y situations as well.
All this talk of public bathrooms has given me the uncontrollable urge to wash my hands. While I do that, holla back…
Do you knock? Does no-knocking bother you? And for goodness sake, if you’ve had someone barge in on you recently, tell, tell, TELL!
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