I didn’t want to have to write about the toilets at work again. I really didn’t. But it seems like someone is conspiring against me and my right to go to the bathroom without having to wade through a pile of someone else’s feces.
After last week’s “Hardy Boys and the Case of the Erupting Toilet-Volcano” I figured that I wouldn’t have to write about the bathroom again for another two or ten years. But this morning I was foiled.
I walked into the bathroom and found one of the two stalls occupied. Coincidentally, the stall that had been so thoroughly violated last time was available, so I opened the stall door expecting to see naught but boring tiles and an empty toilet. I don’t know why I could ever hope for something as simple and hygienic as that. Instead I found a soup of thick, brown water and a critical mass of toilet tissue. It’s okay, I’m gagging right now too.
The toilet had been in perfect functioning condition since the exorcism on Thursday and the power-washing on Friday morning, so the incident from last Monday seems unrelated to the incident today except that someone has now brutally molested this hapless toilet for the past two weeks.
Learning my lesson from last week I decided to not stick around and let my eyes wander to find who knows what kind of unholy, physics-destroying, gravity-defying fecal spatter-trajectories had painted the walls after Satan’s ass-cannon had blown itself apart in localized firestorm of pandemonium and digested Spaghettios, so I made my way to the bathrooms upstairs.
Upon arriving I found the first toilet had been peed on. “But ACW,” you smugly say to yourself because I’m writing this at 10:47 and you’re reading this at some point after that and it would be impossible for us to talk unless you’ve somehow mastered the use of the space-time continuum and if you have why haven’t you shared this ability with me yet, jerk?, “urine is sterile. You could have just wiped those few drops off the seat.”
Let me tell you something Smartypants, there is not enough toilet paper in the world to wipe up that stall. I don’t know how someone got their horse into the second floor of an office building, but that horse has terrible aim. Unless, of course, that horse was aiming for the seat, walls, floor, and everything else but the bowl of the toilet, because it was everywhere. You can sit in a swamp of somebody else’s urine if you want. That’s not how I roll.
The stall next to the golden-shower-on-steroids had also been destroyed by someone, and at this point I’m happy to report that it had been simply clogged with unused toilet paper. Clean, white toilet paper was all that was in the bowl, and it was bone-dry. No-one had stolen a metric tonne of steaming manure, stuffed it with dynamite, and used it to speed-plaster the walls of the bathroom. Nobody went on a magical crap-happy pooping-spree, leaving progressively more bizarre articles of clothing wrapped around their own feces in some scat-freak’s perverse version of an Easter Egg Hunt. Nobody ate an entire box of Maximum Strength Turbo-Lax and used the resulting gastrointestinal race-riot to Jackson Pollock every flat surface of the bathroom. It’s still disconcerting that someone would go to all these lengths to irritate me, but there’s about 16 men’s toilets in this building, and I doubt that someone could destroy them all at once.
This is not a challenge.
Stating that something is not a challenge ALWAYS makes it then a challenge. I don’t know if any of my fellow Cleveland bloggers are up for some fun but once I figure out where you work I’m going on an all bran and cheese diet and spending my vacation in the DC area.
What the hell is wrong with people? Why do they have to be so freaking disgusting?
they mock me with their pooping ease.
I’m so glad I found this website. Hard to find someone with such incredible insight, not to mention the GALL to mention the unmentionables. (No, not undies) You have a brilliant mind, so keep up the good work. I will be back for more. * Glutton for punishment I know! *
Someone has got some massive IBS issues.
Another brilliant entry ACW!
Perhaps there was a Poop planet in the galaxy of Poopton, which was inhabitated by demon poopers who ate rainbows and kittens and thesis proposal acceptances and sh*t out the most vile and stinking pile of molton feces known to the universe so that they can wage war with any passing alien. Poopton was, sadly for us, sucked in and flushed down a blackhole (which coincidentally is rather like a toilet), which happened to have its exit in the staff bathroom on the first floor of your office, resulting in the subsequent rape of a number of toilet stalls.
Given that the demon poopers have unwittingly waged war on your bathroom, I think you should take offense and rise to their challenge and arm yourself with a few cubic cubits of potpourri and industrial-strength amonnia and smite their poopy behinds!
Seriously, are there any conspicuously thinner coworkers in your workplace? People who have suddenly dropped 40 pounds seemingly overnight?
Are you getting a clue? Cuz I am TOTALLY getting a clue right now.
ACW is the new Common Wombat. Good to see someone is picking up the slack.
Next time you go in tape up a sign “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND ONE MORE TIME I AM EXPOSING YOU TO THE WHOLE OFFICE!!!!!”
http://www.poopreport.com
You need to submit your story. Tell ‘em Dyckie sentcha!
What the fuck do y’all eat up there in Maryland? Is it the crabs?
Poor Miss Kendra.
I’m with DaMonkeyCode. A bottle of Omega-3 fatty acid fish oil pills should do the trick.
Seriously… what the hell are people eating in your office?
Two words: Spy Cam. You’ll be the darling of Youtube.
…and of your local PD. I can’t imagine holding cell or prison commodes are better in any way, shape, form, or smell.
Good lord. People need to learn some damn manners. Animals, all of them!
post a sign in all of the stalls “the date and time of all biohazardous vandalism will be recorded and your paycheck will be adjusted accordingly” then sit back and wait for pay day.
if it helps at all…women are just as bad. To look at the gaggle of gucci-wearers in my office you’d think they were prissy at worst and proper at best. But it never fails that I walk into our stalls once a day to find an abandoned “lowercase” log just sitting there or I’ll catch the shimmer of light as it captures the evidence of what must be either a water fight nobody cleaned up after or the urine spray pattern of our very own post-collegiate pampered princesses.
you don’t even want to get me started on the feminine hygiene things…women can be so very gross
I think I’d just start going to a toilet on another floor …
You could always put a litter box in your office.
Statistics hell and bathroom hell…ugh…something’s got to turn up for ya
And I thought you’d only find pee on toilet seats in the women’s washroom… (http://dreams.crystalized.ca/?p=57)
Jesus, ACW, that was foul and transcendent at the same time. I think you have found your ultimate collaborator: you’ve got the language and he’s got the psychotic anus. The two of you are like a cop and a serial killer.
Hopefully you’ll get a book deal and he’ll get a jail sentence.
Wow. That’s impressive. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.
Thanks for the post. Really glad I found your site.
I think your poopy friend may have started their fecal career in Canada some time ago. I encountered a toilet similar to what you’ve described and when a brave friend (much braver than I) attemped to flush the problem away, it became a much bigger problem and a geyser I’m not likely to forget any time soon. (I’ve only recently been able to eat corn again.)
And more recently a fecalator descended on our work washroom. I wish I could say it was mearly a plugged toilet, but no. This poopy fiend actually smeared (seriously) his excrement all over the walls and the inside of the door. It was so bad they actually opted to replace the door.
Satan’s ass-cannon had blown itself apart in localized firestorm of pandemonium and digested Spaghettios
I always knew Spaghettios were evil.
I have noticed that the local movie theatre has these stalls that are wayyy too small. There is no way to get all the way into the stall without the door pushing you up against the toilet. The bathrooms at the movie theatre have little sh*t trolls that hang around and make life miserable.
Ewwwwwww….
Crimeny. Do you work in a prison where the inmates are allowed to use staff bathrooms? Do you work at a junior high full of teenage boys? Are you sharing your business building with other businesses that were imported from the Neanderthal era? Are these white-collar working professionals?!