Thursday, May 15, 2008
Girls are icky.
No really, I mean that. Women complain about men being pigs, but guys have nothing on the nastiness of chicks. Don't ask so surprised, either. You know it's true.
It's also a well-known fact that I'm one of those people that has to pee a lot. We can blame it on the bp meds, or on the fact that I drink a ton of fluids. It doesn't really matter...the fact is that I'm on about a once-an-hour schedule throughout the work day.
So this morning, at about 9:30, I headed for the ladies' room. I really had to go. I made a beeline for the first stall, where.......whoa. Someone had dribbled all over the seat. Gross! If you're that paranoid about catching cooties from the seat (which I am), then use the little paper cover. It's not that hard.
I made a quick turn for stall #2. Guuaaaaahhhh. Could it be?! No.....
Yes. Dingleberries. I kid you not. I'm not touching that seat with a ten foot pole.
Stall #3. Wet tp stuck to the seat.
Last chance - the handicapped job at the end. I almost dove for it, I swear.
And I am not even going to begin to tell you what was in there. I can't possibly relive it, and I'm not going to make you vomit. I'm nice like that.
So I had to do the cross-legged hobble down to the 8th floor, and start over. It took three stalls to find one that didn't have some horrifying tale to tell.
So, ladies, why? Why can't you just pee and be done with it? For the love of all that is holy, must you make my potty experience so traumatizing?
This is a call to action. Pee in the toilet. Don't leave surprises behind for your friends. And please...this part is important.....FLUSH WHEN YOU ARE DONE.
That is all. Carry on.
It's also a well-known fact that I'm one of those people that has to pee a lot. We can blame it on the bp meds, or on the fact that I drink a ton of fluids. It doesn't really matter...the fact is that I'm on about a once-an-hour schedule throughout the work day.
So this morning, at about 9:30, I headed for the ladies' room. I really had to go. I made a beeline for the first stall, where.......whoa. Someone had dribbled all over the seat. Gross! If you're that paranoid about catching cooties from the seat (which I am), then use the little paper cover. It's not that hard.
I made a quick turn for stall #2. Guuaaaaahhhh. Could it be?! No.....
Yes. Dingleberries. I kid you not. I'm not touching that seat with a ten foot pole.
Stall #3. Wet tp stuck to the seat.
Last chance - the handicapped job at the end. I almost dove for it, I swear.
And I am not even going to begin to tell you what was in there. I can't possibly relive it, and I'm not going to make you vomit. I'm nice like that.
So I had to do the cross-legged hobble down to the 8th floor, and start over. It took three stalls to find one that didn't have some horrifying tale to tell.
So, ladies, why? Why can't you just pee and be done with it? For the love of all that is holy, must you make my potty experience so traumatizing?
This is a call to action. Pee in the toilet. Don't leave surprises behind for your friends. And please...this part is important.....FLUSH WHEN YOU ARE DONE.
That is all. Carry on.
1 comments:
This is very true and I don't know why. Most public bathrooms are terrible. Makes you wonder what it's like at their homes, huh?
Next time go into the men's room. They won't mind. Just try to keep the giggling down when they are using the urinals. Oh and watch out for the glory holes!