Today marks the first installment of “What the heck is with the airport?”, a here-to-for recurring, occasionally updated, series of aviation-related observations.

Episode 1, part 1: The Airport Bathroom

So, I was in a bathroom stall at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, and I knew something was up because there were directions on the wall. The fact that a toilet needs an instruction manual undoubtedly indicates that something is amiss: either someone is insinuating you’re stupid, or that particular commode has been unnecessarily complicated (“sit and go” really hasn’t changed much, no matter the technological innovation). In either case, the wall said that if I waved my hand in front of the small sensor, the toilet would move a new sheet of plastic around the seat, and I could sit down on a ‘clean’ surface.

I’m sure you’ve seen these: there’s a box on the back of the toilet; it whirrs and rotates the sheath around the seat, and all is hunky dory. Not today. Naturally distrusting the sign (again, the bathroom is not meant to be complicated), I thought I’d examine things a little more closely. Upon inspection, I immediately noticed the box on the back of the seat had no outlet, no tube leading to the trash, and no auxiliary storage. Big deal, you say? Think again. Because there was no place for the USED plastic to be disposed, I’m quite sure it just came whirring back out again when the next poor sucker waved his hand in front of the sensor. In other words, not only do you have to sit where everyone has already trodden (or, more appropriately, sodden), but you also have to wave your hand like an idiot in front of an sensor that’s probably programmed to work for 1 out of every 100 frantic waves. You know what I’m talking about: wave: nothing; wave, wave: nothing; wave, jump, wave, wave, punch: nothing; walk away: whirrrrrr. Join us tomorrow for: The Airport Bathroom 2: Curse of the Automatic Flush.