I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
January 4, 2006
I don’t like making stall talk.
Let me explain. You and a friend go to a public restroom together. You’re in the middle of a conversation and you enter adjoining stalls. That’s when it gets kind of iffy.
Do you take a conversation break out of respect for the business at hand?
Or do you continue your conversation like nothing is happening?
I’ve tried both. I prefer silence, but generally keep talking in order to distract from any potentially embarrassing sound effects.
And I appreciate it when others do the same. One of the nice things about stall talk is that the raised voices allow for some interesting eavesdropping if you’re a third party. Last night at Maggiano’s, for example, I overheard the following stall talk between a mother and her teenaged daughter.
“I was really glad Dylan didn’t come over today, Mom,” the daughter bubbled. “My hair is really greasy because I don’t think I got all the conditioner out.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “The light in my shower is out and I couldn’t see crap.”
“We don’t need to say that word,” the mother said primly.
“What word?”
“C-R-A-P.”
The daughter paused a moment before saying in a quietly obedient voice, “Oh. Sorry.”
End of stall talk.
A few stalls down, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“Well, I don’t know why she can’t say it, because I can smell yours all the way down here!”
Only kidding. I’m not always quite as adventurous in real life as I am on my blog. But I really did want to say something to that mom. It’s hard enough to coax a coherent conversation from a teenager without chiding her for saying ‘crap.’
Anyway, the whole thing reminded of me of my own mother, who is, I’m pretty sure, the world’s only stall troll.
She uses the anonymity of the stall to comment unseen on others’ bathroom behavior. Growing up, I was her unwilling foil and it caused me no end of embarrassment.
“Gahhhh!” she said from a stall one day when we stopped off at the Neiman’s ladies’ restroom. Beside her, a lady had been peeing for about a minute without stopping. “Take a break, why don’t you!”
Standing at the sinks, I turned bright red. Not again!
“Mom!” I whispered when she came out. “That was so rude.”
“No, using the bathroom that loudly is rude,” she said forcefully, leaving no doubt that the now deathly silent woman inside the stall could hear her.
“You can’t help having to go to the bathroom!” I responded.
“But you can help peeing like a racehorse!” she shot back. It was no use arguing with her.
On one memorable occasion, though, her strategy backfired.
We entered stalls together at a Cracker Barrel. I quickly finished up and exited, stepping aside to let a heavyset older woman take my place. As I washed my hands, I heard a short “toot salute” from my former stall.
“Oh my!” my mother said from the stall next door. “Did you order beans or something?”
Silence. Then another, louder toot.
“Gracious!” my mom laughed. “Sounds like someone majored in Fart History!”
The woman, probably mortified, said nothing, but instead emitted a veritable symphony of tooting that lasted a good 10 seconds.
“Now that’s just gross!” my mother declared. “What is your problem?!”
With that, she flushed and opened her stall door, only to find me doubled over in a spasm of soundless laughter by the sinks. Her mouth dropped open. She looked back to the closed door of the stall beside her, then turned and ran for the door. Even the World’s Only Stall Troll didn’t want to have to answer for that review.
Unlike my mom, I do believe good manners are essential when it comes to making stall talk. But there’s no need to be truthful. In fact, white lies are encouraged. Because when it’s all said and done, stall talk is the only time when no one can tell you you’re full of shit.
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>I am laughing so hard that I’m crying! Hey, can you spare a square? 😉
>So so so funny! You really got her that time. (I’m at work and started laughing outloud and wouldn’t tell anyone why. Screw ’em.)
>Any chance your mom reads your blog?As for me, I’m with you on stall talk. I don’t care how much I love you, don’t TALK to me when I’m in the adjoining stall.
>”Who works for Number Two?” (Austin Powers)Well, is anyone else guilty of this? You’re in a restaurant bathroom and say someone is making music with their toot symphony next to you…it is hard to help but to look at their shoes when they start to leave? Then, when you go back into the restauarant, of course you must look for those shoes just to find out who committed the stinky sound-off…and then immediately report it to your husband (especially if they are attractive). Man, I’m warped… Your Mom stories are great. They just get better and better. Keep ’em coming!
>I wish I had handy a copy of Laurie Notaro’s bathroom rules. She is the author of the idiot girls action adventure club books. It is under the chapter Public Service Announcement. http://www.idiotgirls.com/contents.html Once while in a stall the person next to me let out a very loud sound and said just as loudly, “Oh Thank God I did not do that out there.” Good thing I was in the perfect place not to pee my pants laughing.
>Your mom cracks me up – but as a kid I would have been mortified, too. She totally deserved the time you got her back. That’s hilarious!
>Oh jeez..just reading this made me blush and your mother did get her comeuppance…Minerva
>Thanks for the laugh! Fart History — is your mother a writer, too? I think my most embarrassing restroom moment was when I had a stall with a faulty lock and someone walked right in on me. Come to think of it, maybe that was more embarrassing for her. ;^)
>Freaking hilarious. Fart history, I love it! (And I LOVE that you let her dig her own hole!)
>My former co-worker used to answer her cell phone while in the stall. While it was true that we worked in HR for a company that often had extreme emergencies, it just wasn’t necessary for her to answer her phone. In there. While peeing.Props to you for letting the backfire happen!
>Yeah! Power to the polite public peers! And there is no way my mom reads this blog. She doesn’t even know what a blog is. And if she did read this blog, she absolutely would not speak to me for the next ten years!!
>Remind me never to go into a changing room OR a rest room with your mother. She’s worse than my 6 year old! That darling will say “Did you fart Mom? ” anytime she hears one sound off while we are stall-by-side. Either answer screws me right?
>Oh. My. God. TOO FUNNY! Even if I enter the restroom with someone, I don’t want to talk until we’re at the sink washing our hands. What goes on in the stall STAYS in the stall. That is all. Love your site!
>It is really hard to yawn and laugh loudly at the same time. Please don’t ever let your mom go into a bathroom with me – it wouldn’t be pretty!
>OMG You had me in STITCHES!!!!! If you have time – you have to read this post at my friend’s blog about her and her daughter (who was 3 at the time) having their very own stall talk – it’s so funny….enjoy!http://ohmygawdreally.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-daughter-conversationalist.html
>Oh and for the record Missy, I take offense to the term “Stall Troll.” 😉
>OMG I love it. I didn’t know there was a course in Fart History…I must have missed that one. Fer shure. That was hilarious! Sassy
>I hate going to the bathroom with people at all, precisely because of the whole stall talk thing. If I don’t GO with them, then we don’t have to talk. If we do go, we HAVE to talk to drown out noise. What stays in the stall only stays in the stall if you don’t know the person!I don’t know if you watch the show “Scrubs”, but there was a whole bit about Elliot (a woman) being dubbed the “Bank Farter” because of an episode at an ATM. Her friend tried to reassure her by saying it sounded German. Too funny!
>ROFL! Where do you come up with this stuff? You rock woman!
>LUCINDA! Happy New Year and this is a very funny post to come back to! I’ve missed you and you left such lovely comments on Bucky- thank you very much.After 10 days of travel I’ve decided it’s all I can to manage going in a stall these days, let alone carry on a conversation. There’s the balancing, the holding your pants cuffs off the ground, the correct positioning so it doesn’t spray the back of your legs and then the shifting around to get the paper, wipe and stand clear fast enough so that you don’t get spray back when the explosive auto-flush comes. Who can talk?Once, when Abby and I were traveling in Alaska and it had been a long day without stopping we were in adjoining stalls at a restaurant before dinner. After a VERY long interval without conversation, Abby said, “134, 135, 136, 137…”Your way with words always makes me laugh and laugh, Lucinda- not only are you sassy with them, you can be quite the punster.
>This is the second potty post I’ve read today. I must not have gotten the memo. Pretty. Damn. Funny.
>Oh my. I would not take kindly to comments from your mom!
>HA HA HA! Your mom got busted! That’s hilarious! I talk like nothing’s happening, if I’m already talking. Sometimes if I’m in by myself and doing some serious business, and someone comes in, I’ll take a break for fear of emitting a sound. Or the plop plop noise that might happen. Oh yeah, and who chides their child for saying crap?
>I tried to comment here last night but kicked out somehow.This has to be yoru funniest post. You mom kills me.You clearly have affection for her, too. That comes through. I am such a priss I haven’t used the word fart yet with Rachel. She still calls farts “bubbles in the tummy.”My parents never used the word fart, but my Dad was good at letting out a long string of them as he walked from one room to another. We weren’t supposed to laugh about it. What would your mom have said?!!! Can you imagine if your mom had married my Dad?At least we would have been sisters. And we each would be mortified in our own way.
>Popped in via it2m. This is downright hilarious!Congrats on the 5 smacks, you deserve it!
>That was a funny post. I work one night a week in retail and have gone into the bathroom only to have customers ask me questions about merchandise while in the stall next to me! I just don’t stall talk.
>I’m cracking up.. Great post!
>This is so funny! 🙂