open letter to corporate architects
dear person who designs building layouts,
i feel like i might be over-stepping, given that all of my CAD classes were ones that i was in while cutting algebra, and i basically flunked my technical drawing classes, cuz they were the last period of the day, and, well, everyone knows that's when you get the best end-of-day-sales on dimebags in stairwell G.
that being said, i have some things i think might help you be more efficient at your chosen profession.
when you're designing, say, a bar, the location of the bathroom is important, but not crucial. one would hope that it would be close enough to the bar to avoid any drunken accidents, but you know, it IS a bar after all.
or an office building. i'm pretty sure the standard is one or two on each floor, plus one in the cafeteria, (especially if your cafeteria plans on 'mystery meat and succotash tuesdays'.)
but when you are planning a bookstore, with a large, dedicated childrens section, putting the bathroom on the ENTIRE OPPOSITE SIDE AND END of the store is just sadistic and cruel. to wit. imagine you've got a 3 year old, who is enthralled with 'the pigeon wants a puppy'. and you are six months pregnant, and have stopped off in the bookstore, because you know they have chairs! chairs!!! where you can sit! so you're sitting, after 6 hours of shopping. with a 3 year old. and did i mention that you're 6 months pregnant? which means that you basically look (and feel) like you're housing a small panamanian family under your shirt. and then you hear, 'i better poop, before i poop in my panties!' so, you pitch the book aside, and take said toddler by the hand. you breeze past your partner, and almost bowl over a cute, but VERY SLOW set of year-old twins. you toss a 'sorry! potty!' over your shoulder at the mother who is looking at you with that 'i will never let my kid wait THAT LONG to poop' look, and you're thinking 'HA! and i only had to potty train one kid. bitch.'
and, dear architect, i know that it is not your fault that bookstores eschew straight lines in favor of serpentine, labyrinthine layouts, requiring lots of weaving through the aisles, and past display tables, all full of interesting, shiny things that can distract a ground-level 3 year old. but this just brings me back to my point. because after you make that long and winding marathon trek across the store, with the wind at your back, and a lump of scatalogical terror in your throat, and you've pantsed your kid and plunked her on the potty, and all she does is fart?
you basically want everyone involved in the store layout to die a painful, eyes pecked out by angry roosters sort of death.
i feel like i might be over-stepping, given that all of my CAD classes were ones that i was in while cutting algebra, and i basically flunked my technical drawing classes, cuz they were the last period of the day, and, well, everyone knows that's when you get the best end-of-day-sales on dimebags in stairwell G.
that being said, i have some things i think might help you be more efficient at your chosen profession.
when you're designing, say, a bar, the location of the bathroom is important, but not crucial. one would hope that it would be close enough to the bar to avoid any drunken accidents, but you know, it IS a bar after all.
or an office building. i'm pretty sure the standard is one or two on each floor, plus one in the cafeteria, (especially if your cafeteria plans on 'mystery meat and succotash tuesdays'.)
but when you are planning a bookstore, with a large, dedicated childrens section, putting the bathroom on the ENTIRE OPPOSITE SIDE AND END of the store is just sadistic and cruel. to wit. imagine you've got a 3 year old, who is enthralled with 'the pigeon wants a puppy'. and you are six months pregnant, and have stopped off in the bookstore, because you know they have chairs! chairs!!! where you can sit! so you're sitting, after 6 hours of shopping. with a 3 year old. and did i mention that you're 6 months pregnant? which means that you basically look (and feel) like you're housing a small panamanian family under your shirt. and then you hear, 'i better poop, before i poop in my panties!' so, you pitch the book aside, and take said toddler by the hand. you breeze past your partner, and almost bowl over a cute, but VERY SLOW set of year-old twins. you toss a 'sorry! potty!' over your shoulder at the mother who is looking at you with that 'i will never let my kid wait THAT LONG to poop' look, and you're thinking 'HA! and i only had to potty train one kid. bitch.'
and, dear architect, i know that it is not your fault that bookstores eschew straight lines in favor of serpentine, labyrinthine layouts, requiring lots of weaving through the aisles, and past display tables, all full of interesting, shiny things that can distract a ground-level 3 year old. but this just brings me back to my point. because after you make that long and winding marathon trek across the store, with the wind at your back, and a lump of scatalogical terror in your throat, and you've pantsed your kid and plunked her on the potty, and all she does is fart?
you basically want everyone involved in the store layout to die a painful, eyes pecked out by angry roosters sort of death.
posted by boodafli at 12:38 AM
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