The sign reads: THE SEXIEST WC ON EARTH
So, what do you when you see such a
sign? Well, you gotta go. And for a fee of one euro, that’s just what I do.
The Sexiest WC (water closet, or
washroom) on Earth is located in Lisbon at Terreiro do Paço square. It’s part
of a marketing campaign by Renova, one of the Europe’s leading consumer brands.
Renova produces, among other things, coloured toilet paper providing consumers with the opportunity to co-ordinate
their toilet paper with their bathroom decor. And we all need to do that right?
I read about this sexy washroom
before heading to Lisbon, so when I spot the facility behind one of the many
outdoor restaurants in the square, I am excited. I am anxious. I can hardly
wait to experience The Sexiest WC in the World. What an event this is going be!
With an ear-to-ear smile, I walk down
the dimly-lit corridor. Waiting at the end of a counter filled with rolls of
brightly coloured toilet paper is a young woman sporting two dark-coloured braids and a nose ring, who asks, “Are you using the
facility?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“It’s one euro,” she says.
I dig through the various coins in my
wallet and come up with the required funds. She takes it from me and leads me
past a large canary-yellow fountain. A rainbow-coloured wall of toilet paper is
to my left. She opens a door, tells me the light will come on when I enter, and
instructs me to step inside. I do as I’m told.
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The lights reveal wood-paneled walls on three sides, and a mirrored wall on the other. And a toilet. And a roll of red toilet paper.
I paid a euro for this. I take my
time. I sit and take pictures. Of a wooden wall. And a mirrored wall. And later
a toilet. Did I mention the red toilet paper?
I spot a sign that reads, “WIFI
connection.” So I try to connect, successfully. From the toilet. Yeah,
technology. But where is the sexy part?
Outside, by the canary-yellow
communal hand-washing fountain, I meet three young women from Holland. They're in fits of giggles.
“What did you think? Was it sexy
enough?” I ask.
“We’re not sure what to make of it,”
says one of the women.
“Me neither. I don’t know what I
expected, but this wasn’t it,” I tell them.
Like little girls in a playground, we
all laugh. Mostly because we paid a euro for nothing more than the sheer
pleasure of wiping ourselves with red, or green or pink toilet paper.
“Can you take a picture of us?” asks
another of the women.
“Sure. By the toilet?”
“Yes. With the toilet paper.”
And that is as sexy as it gets. I
admit though, finding and using the facility was indeed a load off my mind.
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