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Kaffeeklatsch: Potty Parity

“John, you look a little…uh…different this morning,” I observed diplomatically from our usual café table.

“I had to go to the bathroom quickly before I left home.”

“No wonder you look flushed,” Beverly smiled as she brought two cups of the daily coffee special. “It’s Jampit from Java.”

“A good choice. I was afraid to use the javapit here,” John explained.

“It’s Jampit from Java,” Beverly spelled. J-a-m-p-i-t…Jampit!”

JUKEBOX BEGINS: “I love coffee, I love tea…

“Speaking of pits, why didn’t you just use the café john, John,” I suggested.

“I know who’d be in there. You, know all this bathroom crap these days,” John shook his head.

“I’d be’p… off,’ too, if I had a choose a bathroom now,”Beverly used signaling quotation marks.

 “I love the java jive and it loves me…”

 “Don’t you have that chicken mood lighting in the facilities to soothe worries?” I remembered from our last coffee time.

“Nah, we had to change it, too many people were ”

“Men, women, transgender walking into any comfort station they want?” John shifted uncomfortably.   “I’m not ready to follow the flow.”

“Oh slip me a slug from the wonderful mug…”

 “It’s transgender equality,” I clarified. “Some people want to use a bathroom according to their gender not their sex.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to share a bathroom with a woman,” John insisted.

“And there’s no way I’d want to be in a restroom with John…uh…you know what I mean,” Beverly and John exchange an awkward glance.

“Shoot the pot and I’ll pour me a shot…”

 “Moving on,” I hastened. “You can save lots of money with only one bathroom.

“Really?  I’m not privy to that,” Beverly poured refills. “Keep talking, I want to see where this stream is going.”

“Tear out the urinals, replace them with toilets inside individual stalls with doors, and require patrons to get a key from you,” I enlightened.

“Well, I don’t get your drift. I still don’t want to see any woman..uh…transgender person coming into the room when I’m doing my daily duties. ”

“I agree. This potty parity has gone too far,” Beverly argued.


“Excuse, may I use your restroom?”

“Sure, both are just down the hall. Turn left to find the ladies room.”

“No thank you, I prefer the men’s bathroom.”

“Heads up,” I whisper. “Here we go.”

“Drop a nickel in the pot, Joe. Takin’ it slow…”

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