It might seem like I write too frequently on bathroom etiquette considering that one of my first entries was on urinal selection procedure, but the subject matter just lends itself so easily to curiosity and dissection. I’ve even written about the impropriety of black toilet seats, a seemingly innocuous subject that irks me enough to comment. Bathrooms rules are among the most unspoken, yet they seem to elicit the most outrage when they are disregarded. How do you feel when you witness someone go straight from stall to door without a stop at the sink?
Part of why I these issues are at the forefront of my mind is that urinal culture is something completely closed off to slightly more than half of the population. As such, I’ll continue to supply my simple observations about what men take for granted. Take this post’s topic for example, why Falcon?
If you’ve been to enough high-traffic bathrooms, undoubtedly you’ve come across a Falcon Waterless urinal. You probably paid little attention, considering so many people neglect to flush urinals. But if you’re a considerate, decent individual, you would’ve noticed that this glazed enamel fixture has no handle or sensor. Purportedly environmentally-friendly because of the water saved, these urinals are probably doing its share in saving the world (as much as you can expect for something you piss into). By the way, studies have shown that painting a little honeybee image onto the inside of a urinal increases accuracy and decreases mess. My question, which I’ll leave open since I can’t find any answer on Falcon’s site, is why the name Falcon for urinals?
I don’t associate birds-of-prey with excretion. That’s an association I usually reserve for the annoying pigeons that drop disease infested bombs on city sidewalks and parked cars. When I think “falcon,” I imagine raptors that dive at 200 mph, though the mental image of peeing on a falcon is mildly amusing.