I have a terrible problem. And, like most fully grown real-life adult people, it’s with work.
Don’t get me wrong (especially you, Boss) I love my job.
But there is still one thing. One little thing that causes my blood to boil and my forehead to start sweating profusely.
And that’s the toilets.
Urban Dictionary says this about a toilet:
|1.||Toilet||1001 up, 112 down|
A place to sit and think. Also a good place to take a plop.
“I’m going to go to the toilet and figure this out.”
But my work’s rest rooms ignore all previous rules about toilet sancdom. Nay, they get the rules, cock one leg up and pee all over them. Then, to carry on the analogy, throw the said rules down their cruel stained basins and flush with a powerful vigor only relative to the strenght of Lance Armstrong’s lies.
Wow, what a mouthful.
These toilets are hellish for many reasons, but I’ve decided on the core three below.
1) The Walls.
To relax and allow toileting to become a calm experience, privacy is key. Privacy is in fact vital to this.
But, the walls on these cubicles are so painfully thin, you can hear the person in the next cubicle doing EVERYTHING, and I mean everything.
What can I say? It’s a talent.
Due to this issue, us ladies have a secret understanding. When entering the toilet, if I have a companion in there, I nod politely at my toilet-associate, and thus the code begins.
Toilet code #1:
Flush the toilet before you have even unzipped your flies.
If one flushes the toilet as soon as they get into the cubicle when another attendee is in the cubicle next door, it allows the other person to let rip with whatever they desire to do. Pipe-noise and handle pumping included, I have worked out that this gives the Toileter 20 seconds of background noise. Those precious 20 seconds means that you can no longer fear over-hearing and being subjected to hardcore office gossip as the ‘farter on floor five.’
Toilet code #2:
Put the hand dryer on.
Even though the hand dryer has the power of a baby breathing on your hands, the tessid toilet agreement states that if you are by the sinks, you must put this on in order to allow the person in the cubicle to have a small ten second window of privacy.
Some kinder souls amongst us even attempt to dry our hands by this wheezy bit of warm air so that the companion in the cubicle can plop and read the entirety of War and Peace by the time the room regains its silence.
2) The Ability To Toilet
Or lack of.
My office is a standard one in a block of around ten companies. As far as I’m aware, child labour is still illegal. And we don’t employ people under sixteen. So, using simple mathematics that means that ALL people in the office blocks are adults.
So why, please tell me why, can NONE of them use the toilet in the correct fashion?
I am fully aware that some people may have complications going to the toilet. But, all, all of the three toilets we have on offer have urine/floaters/shed load of toilet paper thrown all around them.
3) The Ability to Flush
Again, or lack of.
Last but not least, my office seems to physically be unable to use the device which is known as ‘The Flush Handle’.
It’s a small device, some may say lever, which usually resides on the toilet ‘upper-deck’ as I fondly call it. It’s usually not that hard to find.
See I’ve always been taught that the toileting goes as follows:
It’s a three stage process. If you miss out one of those stages then the whole thing goes to pot.
what’s the point in that?
Far too complex, uniformly incorrect and leads to a powerful amount of ‘splash back’.
So why do people miss out the last hurdle, the final step in three? It causes a great strain as one can never quite relax as to what they may find in the toilet bowel of nightmares.
The next person is then severely scarred from their toiletting experience by seeing the INSIDE OF ANOTHER PERSON.
I hope you feel empathy towards my toileting disaster.
Tell me your thoughts – I need guidance!