skip to the loo (of MURDER)

(I have so many unfinished, half-baked, lump of clay blog posts in the queue, when I opened my drafts folder tonight I had no idea what the title of this post referred to. But it caught my eye and made me want to open it up, so hopefully it had the same effect on you. On to the post.)


If you don’t like clicking on unnamed things, I’ll give you some details. That’s a link to CLOO.

What’s CLOO?

From the site: “CLOO’ is a community of registered users who choose to share their bathrooms and make city-living easier, while earning a small profit. Using social media connections, CLOO’ shows what friends you have in common with the host, turning a stranger’s loo into a friend of a friend’s loo.”

Yeah, so, basically, you’re in the midst of a large city. You have to pee but can’t find a bathroom. Even though you’re in a hustling, bustling place, there’s no Starbucks, McDonald’s, office building with lazy front desk staff, gas station, grocery store or public toilet anywhere nearby. Or if there is one, for some reason it has a long line of people already waiting. That’s when CLOO comes to the rescue (or sends you to your impending death) (six of one).

You whip out your hand computer and log in to CLOO, which then–through the power of facebook, twitter and the like–shows you the nearest friend-of-a-friend who is willing to let you use their toilet. For a nominal fee. You send them a request, which they receive like a text message. They then have the option of letting you into their home to use their toilet or denying your request. If they accept, you get the details on where they live and how to get into their building.

The fuck? How awkward is it to dash into someone’s apartment to pee (or worse)? And what kind of person would be willing to let strangers (no! friends-of-friends!) come into their home and immediately pull their pants down and let loose? Because in this situation, I’m guessing there’s not a lot of time for chatty introductions. “Oh, so you know Bob?” “Uh, yeah (squeezing).” “I’ve known him since high school, but I haven’t seen him in ages and ages. Does he still live in Albuquerque?” “I really don’t know, um, could I, uh.” “Albuquerque is such a funny word. Makes me think of Bugs Bunny. ‘Should’ve made a left at Albu’” “COULD I PLEASE USE YOUR FUCKING BATHROOM?”

I don’t know which of these two groups would be most populated by murderers, but I can pretty much guarantee this situation is not setting anyone up for success. Murder aside, what happens when you let the person in to pee, they give you a dollar or whatever, do their thing and then want to hang out and chat? Maybe have a cup of tea? And what if they need to pee again while they’re there, from drinking the tea? Do you charge them again?

My bladder is well-known to the poor souls who’ve been on a road trip with me. I gots to pee, pretty much all the time. In fact, as soon as I squeak out this long-overdue post, I’m going to celebrate by peeing. I’ve been in numerous tight situations, needing to go but having no place to do it. But even at my most full, even at my ’bout to piss my pants worst, I would still never use CLOO. Because you know at least one of these bastards has a little hole in the wall with a video camera behind it.

(and yes, it occurred to me that this might all be bullshit – it’s supposedly real but in the “prototype” stage)

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2 responses to “skip to the loo (of MURDER)”

  1. People wonder where writers get their ideas. Back when I was still writing stories and one acts (before I became the world famous TPC) my problem was there were too MANY ideas in the press and on the street. I’m still trying to sort it all out but every day in the trailer park a new thing happens and there I go again…

    This one would have made the greatest episode of Seinfeld of all time. Kramer joins the CLOO…

    “Don’t be CLOO-less”

    • I’ve got emails to myself and notebooks full of ideas for things to write some day. Of course, a lot of ideas have no business being turned into anything more than a passing thought, but some of them have legs. The trick is determining which goes in which pile.

      Poor Kramer. Remember his run through the woods and subsequent introduction to the enema? Guess that was a metaphor and shit about grasping opportunity when it arises.

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