There’s something a little strange about my bathroom, but it’s hard to put your finger on it at first.
The first thing you notice is the width of the bathroom door. You might try herding cattle through this door sometime. And it’s very roomy. If you ever had the urge to squeeze a love seat into your bathroom, this is your big chance.
The second thing you see is the enormous sex tub. This is the sort of bathtub you fill with bubbles and decorate with half-empty wine glasses, lines of coke, and two or three Playboy Bunnies. You have to wonder if it’s still legal to use that much water in one sitting. You can’t even fill the thing before the hot water runs out.
What tips you off is the toilet. There are these two big metal handrails on the adjacent walls. Your first thought is, oh good, something to brace yourself with the next time you’re puking your drunk guts out. But then you sit down and your feet dangle inches above the ground.
That’s when you realize—this is a bathroom for handicapped people. Wheelchairs.
It’s nice in theory, but knowing that I might eventually learn to pee by myself again after a debilitating car wreck isn’t all that comforting.