Godzwilla versus the Toilets

Let me explain how the Japanese toilet works. Commence shuddering in 10...9...8...

There are three main types of toilets here. One, you have the ever-popular "squatter". It's like a miniature urinal on its back, as a hole in the ground. No seats, just squatting. I have yet to try this design so I can't speak from experience, but I can say it looks uncomfortable.

...7...6.....5....4...

Next, you've got what most people have in their homes, the General Seater. Exactly the same as in the US, all rules apply. Some have a sink for washing your hands built into the top but I have no issue with this.

...3....2...

This all brings me to the last type...the Bidet design. While in appearance this resembles a normal toilet, at the push of a button a small protrusion appears inside the bowl that sprays your glory hole (and not the good kind) until it's clean. As a foreigner ("gaijin") I was not experienced with this particular design. When I arrived in my Tokyo hotel, the first thing I did was look down at the toilet and wonder what this big red button was for. "To flush, of course," I mistakenly claimed.

...1.

Ever been sprayed in the face with toilet water? Not sprayed like a can of Febreeze, I'm talking asshole-cleaning power here. This was an aquatic, toilet-tasting Kamahama~! to the face. I lunged back, slammed my soaking head into the wall, and fell out of the bathroom onto my open suitcase. My Japanese girlfriend of one year, perfectly fluent in English, walked over and without missing a beat, said, "That was for Hiroshima." Had I not been toilet-water raped moments ago, I probably would have laughed.

I thought this was the end of my toiletry fiascos, but oh no! There's more!

In Japan, people steal toilet paper. Frequently. It's literally a huge issue for public restrooms. Because of this, most public restrooms in train stations have since stopped supplying toilet paper. When I walk into a bathroom, however, my first objective is not to check the toilet paper quantity. No, I'm a business type. Get in, get it out, and get me out. So imagine by deep surprise when, after "Completing the Deal", I notice...there's no toilet paper. It's not an empty roll, it's just not there. I wait until the room is silent, rush over to the next stall, and make the same realization.

"Oh Crap."

I eventually built up the courage to text my girlfriend ("That was for Hiroshima.") who was waiting outside to go and buy some toilet paper and toss it in for me.

Godzwilla versus the Toilets?
Winner: Toilets.