At long last, his-and-her dueling toilets.
I've had a two-part theory about successful relationships for the better part of a decade: A) defecating while a romantic interest is in your domicile is a truer sign of comfortable love than saying "I love you,"* and B) no relationship should be close enough that you're comfortable regularly pooping while actually occupying the bathroom simultaneously**.
Well, people who don't buy into part B of the theory are in luck! They are doubly in luck if they happen to be wealthy. Per NYMag.com, some one percenters (and boujie five percenters) are purchasing master bathrooms with dual commodes. The king and queen of the home, in these cases, require their separate but equal thrones to face one another. Yeah, our betters, in an attempt to foster some kind of creepy symbiosis, have made a de facto admission that their sh** doesn't stink.
I, for one, am happy that the modern day patrician class is separating themselves from us hoi polloi in a way that would make Roman landowners blush. Maybe they're more evolved. Maybe they're more accepting. Maybe their buttoned-down worlds make them let their freak flags fly in the kind of way that most of us would describe as "ewww not OK." Whatever the case, the richer are getting toilet-er and the rest of us have to be contented by periodically peeing in the shower.
*Note: Listen, psychos, this is for nice, decent people who are somewhat ashamed of their humanity and want to hide their need to make solids.
**Note: Leave some mystery, Chelsea Handler.
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