dear motion sensor in my office building's bathroom,
I don't know how things are where you come from, but here in Soho, ten
seconds is not enough time for your average American twenty-something
female to come and go from a public bathroom before you go and turn
off all the lights. Would that I could just flash in and out of the
bathroom at a moment's notice, stopping only to kickstart the flush.
Are you not aware of my need to preen before the full-length mirror,
read the latest graffiti on the stall walls, consider lunch options?
Moreover, isn't your raison d'etre that you detect *motion*? Perhaps
where you come from, sitting on a toilet doesn't qualify as motion.
Perhaps where you come from, everyone pees in the dark. But here in
Soho, we like light. It suits us. Why else would I go to such extremes
to try and catch your attention when you choose to cast my toilet
meanderings aside? Here in Soho, it's not everyday that we find
ourselves mid-pee, pants around our ankles, attempting a mid-squat
jumping jack in hopes of triggering the sensitivity of some plastic
microchip in the ceiling.
Don't get me wrong, motion sensor in my office building's bathroom.
I'm no chicken. I can deal with the dark. But ever since my co-worker
pointed out the bathroom's sprinkler closet and its capacity for
storing axe murderers just waiting to prey on young women peeing in
darkness, I've started to value the bathroom's caveish fluorescent
quality. It's almost womb-like. And who are you to take that from me?
Do you not see me down here, arms and legs akimbo, vying for your
compassion? I see you! I see your little red light flickering, spiting
Whatever it is I've done, motion sensor in my office building's
bathroom, I apologize and ask that you please consider that my life
may be in danger. Please consider that I pee a lot over the course of
a day and that it is in my and my company's best interest that you
help ensure my safety while doing so.
this is in or around nyc.