Our floor at work has a Hispanic man that serves as our bathroom janitor. That poor, poor man.
Yesterday. The return of the work force. I’ve worked in mostly super mega corporate environments. Every year around the 2nd or 3rd week of December, everyone magically vanishes. Vacation time or not.
Roads clear, driving to work in the morning is almost a pleasure.
You can hear yourself think at your own desk.
I no longer have to eat lunch at 10:45. The line at the salad place is even shorter. Fuck yes, salads are exciting.
Anyway.
Everyone magically vanishes, but not their shit.
The Monday after a holiday break…almost of any length… is a complete nightmare for support staff of any kind. But the bathrooms. I was dreading it coming in today. I knew by the abundance of SALT LIFE or SALT LYFE stickers on cars I passed that morning I’d have to put up with someone’s awful, awful compounded holiday shit.
The janitor does his detail around 7:45 each morning, replace TP, wipe the counters, it’s an in and out job. But not on bowel movement death trap Monday, no sir. He just stands outside waiting. That’s an indicator that I’m not going to fix my hair for at least another 15 minutes.
I’m not really sure how it happens, how these people let it get so bad. They’re in there huffing and puffing like crazy and I can’t deal with that.
It gets worse. These damn bastards fucking love BIGGEST LOSER interoffice competitions complete with hundreds of dollars in the winner pot. Simply translated, biggest shitter. Some take supplements to help them fire one to 7 shits a day. Unacceptable.
These vitamin fueled blowouts often result in the shit shaming of my favorite stall. The large roomy stall. The one where I can pull the toilet paper down without performing cirque du soleil acts. I don’t know if it’s how I was raised, but if you shit all over something….generally you at least make an attempt to clean it up? If you leave poop all over the back of the toilet seat, or some sort of shit spray in the toilet…you wipe or flush a few times? Hell no, not in super mega corporate land.
Some of them pick their favorite time of day to warm up the bathroom. Mine is around 2:40 PM. The janitor makes another round, and cleans just before. I know a lot of the building support staff, they’re good hard working people. I get good intel.
Anyways.
I worked with one guy who everyday no matter what would shit up the woman’s bathroom at 8:50. He got to work at 8:30, then like clockwork go destroy the women’s room. The women in the office hated it. Now these were single person bathrooms, so maybe if someone was desperate and couldn’t wait….sure but not this dude, not every damn day…that’s fucked up, stop eating fucking Bo-jangles.
I know why he did it though, I’ll give him that.
The men’s toilet in this place was horrendous. It also had a window with blinds that didn’t really hug the window well, in a fairly creepy spot. Ants. Fucking Ants. This building had piles of red ants in this specific bathroom, they came in through the window. The toilet seat itself was actually melted and abrasive in the front where your pee pee is supposed to hang out, and the rest of the seat just appeared to have been chewed on by a large dog. Gouges like you’d see on a cutting board in a kitchen.
If you had to use this thing, this throne of filth, you’d be facing one of those accordion closet doors. Inside the closet was all the IT networking gizmo’s for the building. So pretty much, you’re staring at red blinky flashy lights and things. I wonder how many people opened it up thinking there was a camera back there.
Sure I get why he didn’t like that room. It was cold, people could see you from outside in partial shitting view, it was full of ants, the toilet seat would give you cuts or stab you, and it felt like you were being taped.
Regardless, I didn’t like the guy. I had figured out his routine. At 8:45 that Monday morning, I removed everything in the women’s room that could even be thought of as improvised toilet paper. That morning I also learned that the women’s room had baby wipes, aloe toilet paper, hand lotion, candles, and a wicker basket with Sudoku books and actual full books in it. At 8:48, shortly after dismantling the women’s room of wipe-able materials, I do the same to the men’s room.
(Men’s room had single ply and cardboard for paper towels….WTF)
I quickly stash all this shit in the cube across from both bathrooms. Later I regretted this because that cube was always full of water because the toilet upstairs in a separate business office leaked through the ceiling…oh I don’t know…all day everyday…a lot of stuff got wet. Oh well.
8:50. This dude makes a break for the bathroom.
At 9 AM give or take a few minutes this guy yells in the bathroom. “Ah damn what the hell”.
His NJ accent and shittery echo down the hall.
Unexpectedly, he emerges from the bathroom. Pants not even all the way up, wiggles himself into the adjacent men’s room.
Hmm ok weird. This guy is dedicated to wiping I suppose.
Not even 10 seconds later. “What the fuck is going on in this place”.
He actually left the office after that. I’m not sure what all happened. And I’m not sure if I’m a dick. But this man did fowl things in the restroom, men or women’s, justice needed to be served.
I replaced all the wipey goods.
He came back later in the morning. He seemed irritated.
Well…Anyways…
Narnia.
Well...Anyways 