If it was up to me - and, unfortunately, these things are never up to me - public bathrooms and cell phones would be like your classier saloons and six-shooters in the Old West: You'd have to check yours at the door upon entering ... and pick it up again after you've finished your business.
Simply put, I don't want to hear you yap while I'm trying to take ... well, while I'm indisposed.
The thought occurred to me again this morning after I happened upon a funny blog post that features mild potty language and this headline: "Actual conversation overheard at Dragon*con in the second floor Hilton women's bathroom."
What happened to this Mom would never have happened if only I got my way on everything.
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