What gives you a sense of security in this world? For some, if not most of us, a sense of security comes from a familiarity with one's surroundings, buffered by the ability to control them. A sense of security is important in our ability to deal with the variables life throws at us, because it gives us the confidence to react instinctively and create results.
As an Army spouse, I have security plastered all over my subconscious like a toddler left unattended in Daddy's office during an emergency staff meeting on Bring Your Child to Work Day after discovering that the Post-It notes on Daddy's desk have a sticky side. So when PoopReport was given the opportunity to review a device purported to engender germ-free trips to the public restroom, I knew this was the assignment for me.
THE WAKMAH
The Wakmah is a round rubber disc intended originally as a strong yet removable handle.
It is three-and-a-quarter inches in diameter with a raised quarter-inch lip around its circumference and a two-inch diameter handle in its middle. It's powdery to the touch. The model I received is purple with sparklies, like a seventies bicycle banana seat. This one even had a PoopReport logo in the removable center of the handle. Chic to the max!
If you're into Batman, you can also buy a Wakmah utility belt. I was going to ask Dave to obtain one of these, but then I realized I would be expected to wear it in public.
THE HYPE
On its website, the Wakmah is lauded for its many uses. However, the company approached PoopReport specifically touting its ability to make a germ-free bathroom experience. Among the features it possesses to sustain acceptable hygienic conditions are a patented lip that allows the user to easily remove it from whatever it is attached, along with the anti-bacterial properties of the material from which it's made.
Along with my sample, Mike Briggs of Wakmah Ltd. included a little note of encouragement, mentioning the Wakmah's prowess in allowing users to ride whales and dolphins. So I immediately sent him a bunny-hugger email jam packed with reasons not to participate in these practices. This discretion, along with the mention of "scantily clad femmes" handing them out in the subway, left me wondering if Mike's publicist had graduated from the Benny Hill School of Commerce Theory.
THE FIELD TEST
My clan left the "big city" of Yelm for Olympia, our state capitol and home of Casa Mia, a little restaurant with great pizza and big bathroom doors. After dinner, I took the Wakmah and my daughter Maddie to the ladies' room.
This bathroom door had knob. While the Wakmah gave me no help there, I decided to see how it would work on pulling the door closed from the inside. I applied it with little effort, and this thing stuck to the door. It wasn't coming off. I was impressed.
However, when it was time to go back to our table, I encountered trouble. There was no way
Proper removal technique -- it takes practice.
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I, as an able-bodied female with a decent grip, could get the Wakmah to come off the door! Nothing I did while keeping my fingers off the offending surface could lift the lip to release suction. I found the only way I could remove it was to grab it on opposite ends of the disc with my thumb and forefinger and pull back simultaneously. Every time I did this, I had to touch the door with the pads of my fingers, thus encountering the germs I had been trying so scrupulously to avoid.
Leaving the bathroom with soiled thumb and forefinger pads, I returned to husband Kurt and son Thomas, who decided to test the Wakmah by applying it to the dinner table. It not only stuck to the surface effortlessly, but I was able to lift the entire table over four inches off the ground with no apparent loss of suction.
But again, removing it from the table's surface proved impossible without touching the table itself. Each member of my family tried to remove it without contamination, but none of us were successful.
We went to Mega Foods for a few groceries on the way home. I again took Madison and the Wakmah to the restroom. This time, however, we were stymied before we even entered. The door was wooden -- and I was not only denied adequate suction to open the door, but I couldn't achieve enough suction to even attach it to the door, period. In order to remain germ-free, I had to use the sleeve-over-the-palm approach.
Once inside, I had no problem with the stall door, as it swung inward; but I still had to touch the lock. When I finished my business, I again was aware of the fact that I had to unlock the stall to exit. But I used the Wakmah to pull open the door anyway. This time, though, I pressed down on the handle while gingerly peeling away at the lid with three of my fingers -- and was successful. It was a tricky business not to touch the door's surface, but a little practice was all I needed to manipulate the lid for sterile suction release.
I was still forced to employ a traditional anti-germ warfare technique with the old "grab the doorknob with the paper towel and play Larry Bird as you leave" routine to open the wooden door.
Feeling some of the wine from dinner, I found myself in the produce section where I successfully picked up a honeydew and a fifteen pound watermelon. Then I wandered over to bulk goods and had my way with a range of one gallon cans. After grabbing a three gallon ice cream bucket to see if it worked in cold or slippery conditions (it did), I saw Kurt bending over to get some soymilk and thought about latching on to his shiny, bald, freshly-shaved head. I had visions of Damon Wayans doing his Men on Film routine with that tiny purple hat perched on his noggin like a mini antenna of gay pride. However, when Kurt turned around and saw me standing there with my new purple suction monster, he gave me a warning glance. "Not even in the bedroom," he warned. (Now, where's the fun in that attitude?)
"Okay," I conceded. "But you have those two zits that need popping on your back. If you can give me
about five minutes..." Again, that look.
Arriving home, I thought of a comment Chip Brown made about using it to open a toilet lid, so I applied it to ours and lifted with success. Unfortunately, I found there was no way I could remove the Wakmah from the lid without lowering it a bit to allow room to maneuver my hand into the release position. Every time I attempted -- with success -- to remove the Wakmah from the lid, I had to lower the lid, which would just drop back onto the toilet with a thud. Nope. No lid lifting here.
THE RESULTS
I had no success in avoiding the possibly germ-ridden surfaces of a generic public restroom because the Wakmah neither opens locks nor turns handles. While it opens smooth, non-wooden doors with ease, it doesn't answer the riddle of how to manipulate latching devices without touching them.
Wakmah successes:
- Honeydew and Watermelon
- Commercial Steel Door
- Unlocked Bathroom Stall Door
- Jumbo-Sized Ice Cream
- Gallon Cans of Bulk Food
- A Four-Seater Dining Table
Wakmah failure (due either to lack of suction or refusal of test object, which may or may not have been grumpy at the time):
- Toilet Seat
- Wooden Doors
- Kurt's head (but give me time, oh yes, give me time)
CONCLUSION
Because of the problems avoiding contact with dirty stall doors to release the device, and because of the unforeseeable issues with locking locks and turning knobs, the Wakmah does little good in preventing one from touching germy public surfaces. The Wakmah has better uses than as a stall door opener. But while it did fall short of my expectations and fail important field tests, the Wakmah is a suction master. It's pretty, sparkly and comes in fun colors. It's germ-resistant and can successfully attach itself to a smooth surface. But it doesn't provide that sense of bathroom security that I so desperately and obsessively need.
The Wakmah's impressive strength will keep it in demand for plumbing or janitorial work whenever those professionals encounter a
broken handle. Divers could use it. I think the glass industry could utilize them to pick up those pesky smooth windowpanes -- if I ever decided to become a cat burglar, this is what I will use to grab the little circle of glass that I cut from your window. I could even see firemen of the future using Wakmah to open doors in car accidents, if they could make it heat resistant. I wish Wakmah the best, as long as they leave the dolphins and whales alone.
