Loo with a review

The world is divided on the subject of whether one should take any reading matter into the loo or not. Some people have loo libraries, which is where they put those stocking filler books containing jokes, or the history of how Thomas Crapper gave his name to the wc, or back issues of magazines on such esoteric subjects as mountaineering equipment - yes, I suppose a good knowedge of carabiniers and crampons would help if one inadvertently got sucked down the aforementioned crapper by some inverse force equivalent to the output of methane, and then had to clamber back out of the bowels of the bowl to the pungency of the smallest room.

Some people won't have reading material in the lavatory at all, deeming it unhygienic. Yet, unless germs can leap out of the bowl with the velocity of jumping fleas, surely the only likelihood of transfer is when the act of wiping takes place and surely the magazine or book is abandoned by this stage, as one needs two hands to rip off the appropriate pieces of puppy-soft tissue, even if only one is needed for the actual mop-up job? (Though of course, if the toilet paper has run out, the pages of the magazine or newspaper - don't use a book for this, please! It's sacrilege - will never be reading matter again unless you want to give the expression 'brown study' a whole new meaning.)

Personally, I tend to take magazines or newspaper colour supplements in with me, but hereby hangs a problem. This morning, my chosen reading matter was the latest issue of Writing Magazine (absolutely essential reading for anyone who wants to get published in anything other than their own blog). On the front it had a large picture of Joanne Harris peering round a door. Now, Joanne is one of my favourite authors but she looked just as if she was peering at ME. Now, I think I'm speaking for all but the most exhibitionistic of folk when I say I do NOT want to be looked at while I perform this most private, smelly and potentially embarrassing of functions. I don't want to think about Joanne Harris being in the bathroom with me , being privy to my privy. I don't want to be looked at when my pants are round my ankles and my backside planted on the throne. So I felt compelled to turn the magazine face-down and count the number of spiders on the ceiling instead. They were probably looking at me, too.

The reason why we take reading matter into the loo is two-fold. One, it helps us relax, ensuring easy passage of whatever we ate yesterday (or last week in some cases, especially after the excesses of Christmas) and two, it's the only time in which the average person has some uninterrupted, unmolested time to do some reading. Doctors say it's bad for us. If we sit for too long with the sphincter open, we are likely to develop piles. (Try telling that to your gay male friends.) Well, speaking as someone who's got them already, probably from the six months it took me to read War and Peace (only kidding; it took me six years, not all in one sitting), I'm never going to break the regular habit of a lifetime.