By Anita McLaughlin
the first was in a small stucco ranch built for GIs and their families my only memory my mom’s diaphragm hung from a hook behind the door when we lived in Alaska aluminum foil kept the midnight sun from the bathroom in summer winter, ice coated the window blackout curtains and the smell of Dad’s photo chemicals a note on the door stay out the house in Torrance had two a small one with a shower for Dad the one with the tub for us every day a bathroom adventure two high school girls four cans of hairspray one little brother my favorite public restrooms the clean simple ones at the Getty the shabby ladies’ room at the Los Angeles Central library someone taking a bath in the sink the men’s room in the Felix bar at the top of the Peninsula Hotel I and two friends snuck in enjoyed the spectacular view of Hong Kong at night
This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #1. To go back and read more, click here.
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