Japan is all about cute icons. And sometimes I just don’t want cute. Sometimes I would just like things to be as clinical as possible.
Thus, with the Pee pole. The front of the Pee pole package has one white circle with a face and little stick-and-ball hands and legs, projecting a dotted line from the front of its little round body onto the “Pee pole.” Its mouth is open in a small O of surprise. In front of the white ball is a pink ball with a bow on its head. It is projecting a dotted line onto the “Pee pole” from between its legs. Its mouth is smiling.
My company has required us to undergo a health screening. Among other things, it involved a urine sample… in the Pee pole. The directions indicated that we were to do it first thing in the morning before eating or drinking anything. The Pee pole is about how it sounds. It is a hollow stick with a handle and a slot in the hollow part to collect urine. Any chick with unruly flow who has ever tried to pee into a cup will find the idea of trying to aim into a narrow slot horrifying. The only benefit about the Pee pole is that you have a decently long distance between the part you hold and the part you piss on, unlike a cup.
I know that urine samples often check for urine in the blood. This is reasonable, because if you have blood in your urine, this is probably an indication that something is wrong… if you’re a guy. If you’re a chick on your period like me, it’s unavoidable. I really hope they read my health questionnaire carefully and make the connection. This morning was the first time I used the “front” option of the bidet because the Pee pole didn’t come with the antiseptic swabs that Western labs require. Generally, I’m suspicious that the “front” option is asking for a yeast infection.
The hotel staff is very intent on cleaning your room. One girl told the cleaning staff that she would rather be in her room at the moment and really didn’t need it cleaned. The front desk heard about it and immediately called in a panic asking if she was really sure she did not need it cleaned. So different from American hotels where really you snooze you lose, sleeping in or lingering at the wrong times means no made bed. I’ve decided that the most fascinating room in Japan is the bathroom. There’s always something to say about it. Every day, during the cleaning session, the hotel staff replaces all the complimentry bath items that I use. I can understand replacing the used pouches of shampoo, conditioner and maybe even soap bars, but the the toothbrush? Certainly I can use it more than once! One of the complimentary items is a “wash towel.” The wash towel comes in a white plastic packet. On the front a poem is written in English.
It’s a still life water color. Of a now late afternoon. As the sun shines through the curtained lace. And shadows wash the room.
(Which, as it turns out, is from a Paul Simon song.)
Hardly.
The “wash towel” is a strip approximately four inches wide and two feet long. It’s sea green and seems to be made out of air filter material. Seriously, this shit belongs in cars; it should not be used as an exfoliator. It hurts.