Convenience would be a shoe shine boy and a bidet. Not an unlocked door.

I found this sign hanging on the restroom in the local Marshall’s department store.

Note that the restroom contains three urinals and two stalls. It’s a large restroom. Not a single person suite.

And thankfully, it is “unlocked for my convenience.”

Unlocked for my convenience?

Someone explain this sign to me. Please.

And don’t tell me that it has something to do with department stores often requiring customers to obtain a key in order to use the restroom, because although this may be true, I still don’t need a sign telling me that the restroom is unlocked. It’s one of those things that are easily determined.

More importantly, it is assumed. The default for 99% of all public restrooms is unlocked.

And what if the restroom was locked to prevent theft? Would there then be a sign that reads:

Despite the inconvenience, the restroom is locked.

Probably not, even though informing me that the restroom is locked is slightly more helpful than telling me it’s unlocked. At least I wouldn’t push on the door a couple extra times or assume that it is occupied.

But worst of all is the audacity in attempting to take credit for something that is standard almost everywhere except for roadside gas stations and New York City fast food restaurants.

The restroom is unlocked for my convenience? Does Marshalls think it’s doing me some kind of favor?

Why not add:

For your convenience, the restroom is equipped with toilets and sinks and (in all probability) is stocked with toilet paper (though it would be wise to check and be sure before needing any).

Or how about adding some actual convenience to the restroom?

For your convenience, the restroom is equipped with televisions tuned to the latest sporting event as well as a shoe shine boy, a monkey with an accordion and a bidet.

Now that might warrant a sign.