That awkward moment when you sit down on the toilet seat, and it's overly warm. Not that a cold toilet seat is comfortable, but it's better than the thought of strange asses.
Plus there's weird BO in the stall. Not a cutting-fresh-Bieber-tracks kind of odor. More like a day-old-Frenchman sort of smell. WTF?!?!
My boyfriend recently started working from home, and what is the number one plus...? No public restroom. He informed me that men have all sorts of rules about stall use in public bathrooms. When you're a guy, I guess you kinda know what other people are doing in those stalls. But women don't have that luxury. You don't always know what you're getting into until you sit down, the seat is warm, the stall smells awful, and on either side of you there are other women....shifting, sighing, groaning.... And rolling toilet paper. The stall is shaking they are rolling out toilet paper so vigorously!! Holy crap, leave some for the next victim, woman!
On this occasion I was also blessed with a faulty flush sensor, so despite sitting perfectly still, the toilet was in a constant state of Niagara Falls.
If this was at a restaurant, I would feel compelled to Yelp my troubles as I was doing my business.
But no, this was at the shitty government building I work in. Thus the coat hook falling out of a third set of holes drilled into the door. And the mediocre attempt to simulate a sophisticated powder room by the means of a 1970s era, ratty armchair.
I see people brushing their teeth in there and doing dishes. It all kind of gives me the heebie-jeebies for some reason. I want to be so fabulous, I get my own washroom. I don't think that happens in the government unless you're like the President or something.
No comments:
Post a Comment