'Matter of Laugh or Death,' a humor column

By Bill Dunn

Interesting observations on this thing we call life

(appearing each week in the Republican-American newspaper, Waterbury, CT)

A SPARKLING DONUT SHOP

There is a particular donut shop I visit on a regular basis. No need to mention the name of this place, but if you guessed that it rhymes with “Munkin Monuts,” you’re on the right track. I travel a lot for my job and this particular shop is located around the corner from a client’s office. (What am I saying?! There is a Munkin Monuts located around the corner from EVERY office building in the western hemisphere.) My visit to this place is often the highlight of my week, which gives you an idea of how exciting my weeks can be.

Anyway, recently I noticed a new sign in this donut shop on the back of the men’s room door: “We take pride in the cleanliness of this restroom. If this restroom is not sparkling clean please inform the manager.”

“Sparkling clean”?

Because of my business travels, I’ve seen more than my share of public restrooms. I’m thinking of writing a book titled: “Men’s Rooms I Have Known.” No, that’s not a good title. People might think it’s the autobiography of George Michael. Maybe I’ll call the book “Travel Guide to Men’s Rooms in New England.”

Not to brag, but I am a connoisseur of public restrooms. (Well, everybody has to be good at something, right?) I’ve experienced the entire spectrum of cleanliness, from places so filthy they make the bathrooms in my college fraternity house look like hospital operating rooms, to places so surprisingly clean I bet my wife might even find them acceptable to use in an emergency—as long as she had six cans of Lysol, a carton of alcohol wipes, and an oxygen mask.

The men’s room in my favorite donut shop always has been on the cleaner end of the spectrum. But “sparkling clean”? C’mon, after all, it is a public restroom.

When I first saw this new sign, not wanting to be labeled as someone who ignores clear instructions, I dutifully tracked down the manager and said, “Um, sorry, but the men’s room is not sparkling clean.”

He looked at me with confusion. (Since I’m already being rather crude by talking about public restrooms, I might as well be completely offensive and point out that whenever I quote this store manager, you should hear his voice in your head sounding exactly like Apu on “The Simpsons.”) He said, “No toilet paper? I will get some right away.”

“No no, there’s plenty of TP,” I said. “It’s just that, well, the sign says to tell you if it’s not sparkling clean.”

“Oh, sprinkle donut? Would you like coffee with that?”

“No, not sprinkle. Sparkle. The bathroom is not sparkling clean.”

“Oh, the bathroom!” he said nodding his head with clear understanding. Then he turned and yelled, “Rameesh! Come here quickly. Toilets overflow again. Get the mop and bucket.”

No no,” I said, “the toilet’s fine. In fact, the men’s room here is great. Way above average for a fast food franchise. Plenty of TP, and real paper towels instead of hair dryers for your hands. It’s just that, I hate to be a nitpicker, but the sign says to tell the manager, and I cannot honestly say the bathroom is SPARKLING clean. So, well, I’m telling you.”

He paused for a moment, then turned to Rameesh and said, “One sprinkle donut.” Then he turned back toward me and said, “If I give you a free donut, will you leave and never come back?”

I said, “Throw in a coffee and you’ve got a deal.” Then I drove 100 yards and found a new favorite donut shop.

©2007