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.
June 14, 2006
>Here you are, kids- the very latest installment of Suburban Turmoil, Nashville Scene-style…
Stall Talk
I don’t like making stall talk.
Let me explain. You and a friend go to a public rest room 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 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. Recently 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. 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. But I really did want to say something to that mom, because it’s hard enough to coax a coherent conversation from a teenager without chiding her for saying “crap.” Just ask my two teenage stepdaughters. You’re much more likely to be text-messaged than actually spoken to.
Anyway, the whole thing reminded 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 Hecht’s ladies’ rest room. Beside her, a woman 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’s 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’m impressed with your site, very nice graphics!
>Your article might just be the funniest thing I’ve ever read. Your blog is great, too.
>Too funny! Thanks for making my afternoon.
>A-hahahaha, that’s a hysterical story. Fart History!!
>Oh man, Lucinda/Lindsey. I’ll pray for you.:)
>Another great article for the Nashville Scene. Have you read the !Ask A Mexican! and looked over his glossary?
>I loved both. Your Mom is a hoot which cracks me up b/c I know you said you’d be uncomfortable with her reading your blog.
>OMG … I’m still laughing! That’s about the funniest thing I’ve read in a long time! Thank You!
>YOU ARE TOO FUNNY!! I loved that story! It reminded me of a story that my friend told us once when he was a bit loud w/his business, and the guy next stall said “Gee! Courtesy flush! Courtesy flush!” That was the first time that he and I ever heard of that phrase. So, courtesy flushes from now on people.
>that’s hilarious!! Wish I had you in my newspaper…. just to give the people around here something to talk about!
>Loved your article! When I go to the bathroom with a friend, I’m the ‘talking’ kind of friend in the stall, but I draw the line there. I don’t comment on strangers’ sounds or odors!
>That was awesome. I read the day before’s blog. I’m waiting to see your Mom’s review of THIS.
>Your article … priceless! can’t wait to hear what your mother has to say about that one. You know, she WILL find this blog.
>That is hysterical. Your mom is probably going to freak out, big time!
>I just read your revealing post. You are so much more interesting knowing the real you…and beautiful and talented.I know how you feel. I left my job as a Accounting finance manager at a company I had been with for 11 years. Being a single girl I had put all into building up that career. Finally making money and being taken seriously by other men and women. But at 39 and married for the first time I wanted a change of pace and actually enjoy having a home. Not just a pit stop between us. So I retired at 39 last October, got 2 little lab puppies to add to my cats and became an old fashion homemaker. Well not so old fashion….I stay so busy I can hardly find the time but people still say, “Well don’t you get bored?” “What do you do all day?” The only thing I do miss is all the clothes and shoes I used to buy for work and of course my friends there. Anyway, congrats on getting published and best of luck to you.
>Oh man… that’s the first time I’ve read that one. EXCELLENT! I’ll always think of your Mom now when I use a public bathroom. What does SHE do if she really has to go in public??
>Yeah, the bathroom talking. I hate it. Course, I’m a guy and we don’t even speak to each other in the men’s room. Women are all casual and willy nilly about the bathroom convos, like they’re all just knitting and pearling or something.