European Toilets Stink

A word about the noble toilet, before I continue with my travel blog:
American toilets are wonderful. Good ones are comfortable. They come in custom colors and sizes . . . and some do not even look like toilets.
My favorite thing about American toilets are that they are not very interactive. My plan for a toilet is to arrive, poop and leave. That's it. When I'm done with a toilet, I want to flush and go. I have discovered that American toilets feature superior shape, volume, and water placement. Allow me to explain in graphic detail. (You have been warned.)
Europeans design their toilets so that you have to become involved with their function, collective use, and upkeep. In short, you will have an ongoing relationship with the toilet. You cannot arrive, poop and leave.
First you must mount the toilet, typically in a tiny room too small to enter, turn around and close the door. It appears as though the toilets are installed in these rooms first, then the walls are built.
Secondly, you poop. This part I'm sure you've got (. . . except for those pesky two-year olds who keep leaving comments about their binky. You kids go to bed already!).
Third, you flush. But similar to the paper-plastic connundrum faced in grocery stores everywhere, you must choose the size of your flush in Germany. Little Flush, or BIG FLUSH. There are consequences for the entire planet . . . whatever your selection. If you choose little flush, and you fail to rid the world of your dark matter, you must decide yet again, if what remains is worth a little flush . . . or if you are tired of gambling with the fate of the world, you can just go for a BIG FLUSH, knowing that you did your best . . . but you cannot risk the careless wantoness of yet a third flush.
But wait there's more. Now you must begin to touch the toilet. You must lift the seat, and pick up the toilet wand used by the thousand toileteers before you. You must wand the toilet clean, and scrub if necessary those highly adhesive bits that you've cast off.
Fifth, you must then flush again, with the wand . . . so it is cleaned and you can put it back.
You may now touch the toilet lid again, to close it.
Now you may leave.
Why is this elaborate ceremony needed? Because the toilet is shaped like a funnel. Deep. All-wall. Very little water. One supposes that the Europeans are more water conscious . . . except with every flush a firehose of water is propelled through the funnel.
In the Aral Gas Station in Mulheim An Der Ruhr, the Men's room toilet, has no water . . . but a ceramic tray to catch all the steamy goodness left there. This is a truly interactive toilet. Smell-o-vision. When you flush there is a 50-50 chance that your little friend may be ejected out of the bowl into the room with you. "Say Jello to my Littol Freend!" indeed.
I would go on, but let's not exaggerate. German toilets are different . . . but they are not the worst. The worst, can be found at the mountaintop Drak Yerpa Caves in Tibet. A brick pit teetering on a hillside 14,000 feet in the air. Alien beings come there to die. I have faced these organisms head on (as I could not bring myself to contribute) and survived to tell the tale.
Germany is not this. But why, I ask you, are the people who make Mercedes and BMWs designing their sewer system in this way?
One positive aspect of this system, is that the Germans have clean restrooms. Everyone is required to participate in the cleaning of the toilets . . . or suffer the suspicions of co-workers and fellow toileteers. Talk about your collective guilt!
Frequently, . . . heck Typically! Most establishments charge to use the bathroom. You cannot even get in, unless you've got cash (30 - 50 cents). Some have monitors and janitors on stand-by (why I don't know, when you are expected to participate in the bathroom's cleaning). I have been victimized by just such a janitor in Plzen, Czech Republic. When she demanded 5 krone from me, I gave 50 (stupidly) . . . and got no change. This means that I paid about 3.50 to pee in a train stain that was in the process of being cleaned by a lady janitor. The gaul! For $3.50 I should have been able to decorate a golden brick in a Bohemian Palace!! I have complained about this shakedown ad nauseum . . . and my family has told me to "Let it Go!" . . . That's what lead me to their clutches, I tell you!!! Anyway . . .
In the Block House Restaurant on Adenauerplatz . . . the toilet actually has a bleach dispenser with graphics on how to clean the water closet after yourself. I mean it's one thing to tidy up . . . but the graphics explain how to use toilet paper to spread the bleach over the entire toilet and then wipe it off. Is this my job as a guest? I think not!
Pictures will *not* be provided . . . so move on to the next blog yous!