Cover your own ass

Sun, sand and toilet seat covers: I never considered custom fit can tissues an attraction of my home land, until now. I first noticed the lack of seat covers after a stellar breakfast on my third day in Chicago, called the Dixie Benedict. I'll leave food out of this conversation for the sake of being proper, but WTF? What I thought might be an isolated incident is not! 

Restaurants aren't the only businesses with no seat covers. Yesterday at the Art Institute of Chicago, after a lovely cup of Intelligentsia coffee brewed from a clover, I discovered that high art isn't concerned with bottoms, either.

Seat covers are commonplace in just about all California establishments, gas stations to restaurants and even some out-houses. What does this mean? Do Californians have dirty asses, or clean ones? Guess I'll just have to wipe and see.