More Bathroom Drama

In my previous installment, I shared the story of someone in our office building who felt entitled to store her personal stash of tampons in the shared bathroom. In the end, I spoke with her (by phone), and she agreed to keep her personal supplies at her desk.

It also turned out that she was, indeed, the same woman who periodically blow-dries her hair and does her make-up in the washroom. While that is not totally out of line (she doesn't leave her grooming equipment there), it still is unusual, as this is not a change room.

Anyway. Things are under control there.

As we shared this story with our male colleagues, we learned that there was a similar problem going on in the men's room: there was a man who was fastidious about NOT touching the door handle after washing his hands. But, instead of using the paper towel to open the door, then disposing it in the garbage can (either in the restroom or at his desk), he would drop it on the floor.

Wha'?

Through surreptitious means, we have deduced that the culprit is from the same office as the offending woman. They must have an interesting culture there. Kind of "OCD meets dorm room," I'm thinking.

I was feeling pretty curmudgeonly about all this until I came across this article, about the "Top Ten Poop Bandits." Yup. There's a list. And we have NOTHING to complain about.

Perspective, folks, it's all about gaining perspective.

Bringing out the passive-aggressive monster in me

Update: the culprit finally called. She was defensive, of course, but agreed to stop keeping her personal items in the restroom. I wussed out and asked our admin to carry the bag of tampons over to the woman's office so she and I still don't know what the other looks like. (I suspect she's the same woman who occasionally does her hair and make-up in the bathroom instead of the shower-bathroom-locker room in the basement. Frankly, I don't care if she lives in her car; if I catch her washing her armpits or shaving her legs, I will draw the line.)

Last week, I walked into the bathroom at work.

 A very stylish place, actually.
(I do wish they had a bench suitable for naps.)

I noticed a garish box on the corner of the counter. I took a closer look.

The note says, "Please do not remove."

Excuse me?

What makes you so goll-darn special that you get to keep your personal supplies in the shared restroom?

Every woman who has ever menstruated knows the joy of trying to discreetly tote sanitary products into the bathroom. In fact, the manufacturers have come up with all sorts of packaging to make it easier. Attractive little plastic containers, quilted pouches, tins with funky prints.

They're all quite silly, really, because the things fit into a pocket or purse with no trouble at all.

The box, on the other hand, is an eyesore. And it is STILL THERE. Also, she evidently has a very long menstrual cycle. There is no "Free to a Good Home" sign on it, so I assume the woman who stashed them intends to keep these to herself.

Today I talked with a female colleague about The Box, and she was as ticked off as I was. We tried to think of what to do. We came up with these:

• Take the box and use or give them to whoever wants them.
• Leave a passive-aggressive note on the box asking the woman to please keep her personal supplies in her purse or desk.
• Hold the tampons hostage.

I prefer the last option and plan to bring a Ziploc bag to work tomorrow and replace the tampons with a sort of ransom note saying only, "Please call 613-nnn-nnnn." (I seriously debated prefacing it with "If you ever want to see your tampons again," but decided not to. She might not take me seriously.

If she calls me, I'll ask her either to get an attractive, dark-brown basket and enough supplies to share or to keep her stuff in her own personal space. 

I would not object to this basket. Only $13 here.

Is that too much to ask? Well? IS IT? I don't think so. 

Toilet Humour

Source: Blurred Vision in a Time of Blindness

A friend of mine posted a status on Facebook today that reminded me that I've been meaning to do a post about toilets, in general and toilet paper in particular.

First, the toilet paper.

The picture at left sums it up. What it doesn't say, however, is why the image is almost always correct. (And, if you're like me, you always need to know why before you will happily comply with instructions.)

Here's the answer: if you roll it the wrong way, the sanitary paper may encounter unsanitary matter on the container surrounding the roll. This is often the case in public washrooms, where the roll is placed into a recessed niche.

However, the following style of holder does not have that toilet-tissue issue.

Observe: the tissue is held well away from the potential contaminants.

Thus leaving me bereft of reasons to insist that the paper roll over, rather than under the roll. (I still do insist, however, and I will change it if it's done incorrectly. Except in someone else's home: when I'm a guest, I respect the protocols of the house.)

But then I went and bought this pretty toilet-paper holder for our master bath. See the problem?

The paper is not held far enough away from the wall and potential contamination when it is a full roll.

Seriously. It bugs me. I wonder if it might be possible to adjust the tightness of the hinge at the top so that the roll would be held away from the wall.

Let's move on to other toilet stories, because you KNOW I have a fondness for them.

The toilets at the very nice, modern building where I work have a nasty habit of regurgitating after the very enthusiastic auto-flush seems to have been completed. For a while I thought there was a slovenly non-flusher using the restroom, but there was some evidence that an attempt to flush had been made.

[Oh, mercy, I'm trying so hard not to be revolting here!]


Then I noticed that I, myself, almost invariably had to flush twice. [TMI? Sorry.] Perhaps, just perhaps, other users were not so fastidious as to verify that the mechanism had functioned appropriately?

Evidently, someone else had the same thought and posted a sign in each stall encouraging guests to look before they left. For the most part, that solved the problem. I keep wondering when someone will tell management.

Your final toilet story for today concerns the outhouse at a cottage that Steve and I used to own.

Our tiny cottage was built on a fairly steep slope, and the prevailing winds in the evening would blow in off the lake and up the hillside. The outhouse was far from airtight, and the breeze would blow in under the structure and up the um ... is there a polite word for the hole you sit on? Don't think so. Anyway, that's where the wind blew.

On very windy days it could be quite unnerving.

It always reminded me of my brother Andy's story about the book, Who Has Seen the Wind, by W.O. Mitchell. Someone (Andy, no doubt) jokingly called it "Whizzing in the wind," a joke made doubly funny because the cover of the book showed a young boy with his back to the reader, hands either in his pockets or clasped low in front of him, facing a field of wheat. It really looked like he might be whizzing into the wind -- never a good idea.

Surely you have some funny toilet stories to share ... don't you?