As a lifelong resident of the great potty-obsessed state of North Carolina, let me just say “Thank You!” to my Governor, Pat McCrory, and the wise leadership in the General Assembly for the passage of House Bill 2, which, among other things, ensures that I, and my daughter, will never be accosted by a rapist pretending to be a transgendered woman while we’re doing our business and freshening our makeup. Saints be praised.
My very first public restroom memory was of a Belk department store as a toddler. It was a spacious pink painted palace of a room, complete with a separate lounge lined with velveteen couches and crystal ashtrays. It was a wonderland. Sadly, this set up unrealistic expectations for later in life when I realized that most women’s restrooms are less palace and more underground prison in design and appeal.
Little did I know that one day, unless the lawmakers intervened, I might find myself being asked by someone with a suspiciously deep voice to toss a roll of TP under the stall or, while washing up, point out the location of the waste basket, always too far from the towel dispenser.
Fix that, General Assembly!
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This is typically the kind of interaction you have with other women using a public restroom at the same time. Thank heavens the Governor understood that we are all basically sitting ducks if transgendered folk are allowed to use the bathroom that corresponds with their gender identity. This, like voter fraud, is actually a problem that doesn’t exist when you really look at those pesky facts but, well, bygones.
Y’all, I can’t say enough about how protected I feel by my big, strong heterosexual governor. Incidentally, the law doesn’t affect transgendered folk who have gotten their birth certificates changed. I suppose this means that anyone who looks a little shaky in those knock-off Louboutins could whip out the birth certificate to the inevitable Restroom Birth Certificate Inspector who must be on duty to protect and serve.
I am grateful that this extra layer of protection, rather like that found in another ladies’ room staple, will surely be budgeted. Teachers?
Your pay may be stagnant but perhaps you could work a night shift as a birth certificate inspector. Your future is already fairly much in the toilet in North Carolina.
Thank you, Governor McCrory and General Assembly. With the exception of a few malcontent Democratic state senators, you have saved womankind. Perverts everywhere must surely be scurrying into other less progressive states to plan their bathroom assaults.
Here’s the thing: Pat McCrory has clearly never spent any time in a ladies’ restroom or he would know that we go in pairs or even packs. Ain’t nobody messing with us in there, least of all a heterosexual rapist masquerading as a woman. If threatened, we will circle him like the rental chairs at a bridal shower and we’ll kick his butt six ways from Sunday. Anything else just wouldn’t be Christian.
Celia Rivenbark is the New York Times best-selling author of “Rude B****** Make Me Tired.” Visit www.celiarivenbark.com.