The people I work with are crazy. Good crazy. We all laugh about similar things, for example bathroom humor, each other, and other bodily functions. Luckily none of them mind that a tiny (or large) dinosaur leaps out of my throat on occasion. (I (sometimes) try really hard to hold in my burps but even when I try to keep it quiet someone still hears me. I went to the doctor but they said that I was completely healthy!)
Occasionally at work, people leave little presents in the stalls. One afternoon I walked in and found a piece of spaghetti lying on the floor; another afternoon a piece of Cap'n Crunch; more often though are presents that are left in the toilet themselves.
Question: How does spaghetti and Cap'n Crunch end up in a bathroom stall? Like, do you go in there knowing it's going to be awhile and take a snack? Or did that spaghetti fall down your cleavage at lunch only to reappear in the bathroom? I guess we'll never know...
Anyway, in the toilet themselves, we get the normal skid marks, occasional floaters, and only if we're lucky a complete assplosion (you know where splashes encircle the rim of the seat and only if we're lucky a little creeps out onto the seat itself--thank God for our cleaning crew). Every couple of months or so, someone does this thing where they leave a small child in the toilet and it smells like raw sewage. This is in the women's stalls, y'all. Seriously.
There was one day that Jenny returned from the bathroom to share her excitement about the mammoth poo that was in the toilet and of course a few of us had to go and check it out. Eventually someone tried to flush it and it took a few tries for it to move along. It was that big. I know, I know...it's disgusting that we check this stuff out, but c'mon, who doesn't know how to flush!!! Get it together, ladies, that's something we all learned how to do as kiddos.
The other thing that seriously sucks about our work bathrooms is that it is painfully quiet. Sometimes I think that I should start singing so that it lessens the tension in the air. The quietness makes for an awkward bathroom experience. Typically if someone has to, ya know, go #2, they camp out in the stall--sometimes for hours waiting for the bathrooms to be completely empty. Other times, people hide in the luxury suite, aka the handicap stall.
This stall is tricky, most of the time when it's occupied you can't tell! It seems like you have the bathroom to yourself and then you'll hear a little shuffling or the toilet paper will move or something. You can't even see feet in the stall to see if someone is in there or not. I think it should be a rule when you walk into the bathroom and you're hiding in the stalls that you have to make your presence known. Or else it could be reaaaaal embarrassing.
Things, however are about to change with our bathroom situation; the heat is getting ready to come back on. Why is this important, you ask?
Well, when the heat kicks on in our building it makes a magnificent rattling noise and people have the freedom to be as loud as they want in the bathroom. It is like the worst day ever when the fans switch off, but luckily, we're quickly approaching that time of year when everyone breathes a sigh of relief that the temperatures outside are dipping low enough for the fans to kick on on a daily basis.
Last spring after the fans decided that they'd had enough, a rush of panic went through the 3rd floor halls in my building. For awhile we debated putting a sweet boom box in the bathroom to create a little noise but then decided that if a customer was in and heard R. Kelly bumping on the system that they might be a little freaked out. Then we thought that a nice relaxing CD of ocean waves would be a good idea but once again, that idea got shot down as well. So, for the last seven or so months, our entire floor has been braving the toilets with no background sound. Only the sweet, sweet sounds coming from the stall next door.
My mom recently sent my sister and I this email about farts. It's entertaining and educational to say the least. Check it out:
 |
| Best. Book. Ever. |
Also, one of my bestest friends got me this book a few years ago. I keep it on the back of my toilet. It usually starts a few conversations to say the least. I have no shame. I'll talk about poop. Just don't get too graphic, mmmk? I have a bad gag reflex.
