Public bathrooms have really upped their technology game.
Toilets flush themselves, water magically appears when you place your palms in the communal sinks, hand dryers have become so powerful that you can literally watch your skin get sucked dry in a matter of seconds.
What a time to be alive!
Most of these newfangled public bathroom upgrades are pretty self explanatory and have been implemented to make doing your business away from the privacy of your own home a less disgusting experience.
Last week, I was with my family at a museum out of town when my daughter and I needed a bathroom break. We found a seemingly standard public restroom and used stalls next to each other. Lucky for me, it was my time of the month and I needed a fresh sanitary napkin. Just as I was about to swap my old pad for a new one, I noticed there was nowhere to dispose of my “waste”.
No tiny silver box drilled into the stall wall! What was a girl to do?
It was then that I noticed a white plastic tube fastened to the wall beside the toilet. It looked exactly like the picture below.
I don’t know why, but when I first entered the stall, I thought that it was an overly large air freshener and didn’t really pay it any attention. Upon further scrutiny, I discovered that this tube was in fact a space aged, feminine hygiene disposal unit. The word “Sanipod” was written across the front of it in cursive writing.
I wrapped my used pad in toilet paper and was excited to use the Sanipod for the very first time, but then I got totally confused. How the hell was I supposed to get my feminine “waste” inside the tube? There was no obvious opening, no little trap door or tiny garbage shoot. There were no directions visible on the Sanipod. What was I missing? I knocked on it a little and then my daughter started to ask me what I was doing. Wanting to avoid a conversation about maxi pad disposal with my five year old in a public bathroom, I panicked and put the used pad in my sweatshirt pocket. Feeling like a moron, I washed my hands and then stealthily tossed my pocket pad in the garbage on our way out of the bathroom. For the rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t get the stupid Sanipod out of my head. Why couldn’t I figure out how to use it? What was wrong with me? This was a product designed for menstruating women. I WAS A MENSTRUATING WOMAN, DAMMIT.
Our day at the museum was coming to a close and I knew that I couldn’t leave without solving the riddle of the Sanipod. I informed my children that they all needed to use the bathroom before leaving. My daughter and I entered the very same bathroom and used the very same stalls.
There it was again. That smug little Sanipod. Hanging on the wall like it was better than everyone else.
I channelled my inner Crime Scene Investigator as I scrutinized the Sanipod. What was I missing?
Suddenly, I noticed a small black circle on the very tip of the Sanipod. I touched it and nothing happened. Frustrated and about to give up, I held my right hand just above the black circle thinking that maybe it would somehow sense my presence like the faucet in the communal sinks. Like magic, the top of the Sanipod popped up exposing a small compartment for my personal feminine “waste”. I hurried to change my pad and giddily placed it in the Sanipod. With a cool swishing sound, the top of the Sanipod collapsed back down on the tube as I faintly heard the dull sound of my pad hitting the bottom of the inside of the tube.
I HAD TRIUMPHED OVER TECHNOLOGY!
SUCK IT, SANIPOD!
Researching the Sanipod for this post, I discovered that it comes in both black and white and a variety of sizes.They are available for both personal and commercial use. You can also get decorative wraps for your Sanipod if you desire to make your feminine “waste” tube more cohesive with your bathroom decor. In my opinion, the best feature of the Sanipod is its unique shape. Does it remind you of anything?
Anything at all?
Thanks for reading and I wish you all positive Sanipod experiences!
I know, it’s been forever since I’ve written ANYTHING and I appologize. To say that my life has been totally bananas since the end of January would be an understatement.
Here’s a run down of what’s been going down with NFred;
The Toy Shop where I worked for over twelve years closed its doors at the end of January. It’s sad and I miss my work family dearly. I knew my location was closing since September, so it wasn’t a shock, but it was a long drawn out process of repeatedly telling customers the sad news. It was also exhausting trying to keep my rage in check when asshats asked strangely personal questions about my future and demanded to know what was on sale. One asshat in particular singled me out to explain to his five year old grandson why I was closing his favourite store. I explained to the little guy as best I could through clenched teeth while wanting nothing more than to yell at Asshat Grandpa that it wasn’t MY decision. The high point of having the store close occurred when I got to fulfil my life long dream of cracking a beer IN THE SHOP once we closed the door for the last time. Dreams do come true, kids!
I took a few days off after the store closed and then returned to start work at a different Toy Shop location downtown. A thriving store in a distinguished neighbourhood with full shelves and zero asshats asking about the closing of my former location. The staff was lovely and I fell in love with a hipster tea shop on the same street that converted me into an obnoxious tea snob. I was happy to work there. Sure the commute sucked and I was nervous about being far from my diabetic son, but I was cautiously optimistic. Until…
On February sixth, my son made the switch from injections to an insulin pump to help better manage his diabetes. The first couple of days were a total gong show. Soaring high blood sugars followed by random lows. I had taken the week off work to help my son adjust to his new life and I’m so glad that I did. I wasn’t prepared for how much work the switch would entail. Waking up every two hours at night to test his blood sugar, weighing every single piece of food that he was going to put in his mouth, doing more math than I’ve ever done in my entire life to figure out carb counts , writing countless emails to his school to make sure they knew how to keep him alive. Exhausting. Things are slowly starting to fall into place, but I quickly realized that I needed to be closer to my son. My old Toy Shop was a five minute drive from my son’s school. In an emergency, I could get there quickly. The downtown Toy Shop was far, too far for me. Call me a Helicopter Mom or a Worry Wart or a Nervous Nelly if you please, but when it comes to my son’s health, I put him first. Always. So I made the agonising decision to resign from the Toy Shop so that I could be closer to my boy. It sucks. I’m sad. The Toy Shop was a huge part of my life, but in the end, I know I made the right decision.
In my sleep deprived delirium, I accepted an offer to work at a ridiculously adorable preschool in my neighbourhood. I am officially a Teacher’s Aid and have found myself the ever elusive Monday to Friday, nine to five job that is the unicorn of the retail world as those hours just don’t exist! I work with kids aged fifteen months to three years old and feel that a more fitting job title would be Professional Snot Wiper, Bum Changer and Toddler Herder. I had my first day last week and survived. A child even told me that I was beautiful. Will this be my forever career? I have no idea, but for now it works and I’m happy.
Holy Hell! I sure can ramble on about myself. If any of you are still reading and haven’t lapsed into a coma, this is the part where I talk about the future of What NFred Said.
I love this blog with all my heart. It’s like my fourth child. Fingers crossed, now that life is settling down a smidge and I have snagged myself regular working hours, I can FINALLY devote more time to writing. My problem has always been that I have more ideas than time. I hope to get on a permanent writing schedule soon. I’d also like to clean my disgusting home, get into shape, win a million dollars and find a cure for diabetes, but I’m taking it one day at a time.
Thanks everyone for reading. I hope all of you are having a splendid 2017. I promise I won’t be a stranger. Let’s chat soon, okay?