For many of us, the ten to thirty minutes we spend on the throne is more than just a way to rid our bodies of Chipotle and toxins; it’s a precious time used to reflect and decompress. That’s why when someone, or something, interferes with this sacred ritual, it can be a real day-changer. I’ve been keeping track of all the ways my alone time has been ruined in recent weeks, and other than natural disaster or terrorist attack, these are the absolute worst.
Guy At The Urinal Thinks He’s Alone And Talks To Himself
You’re sitting there, eyes closed, deep in thought, and all of a sudden that door swings open. You’re praying this guy doesn’t hop in the stall next to you, and your prayer is answered. Dodged a bullet there. He’ll be gone in less than a minute and then you can get back to enjoyi– wait, is this dude talking to himself? It’s something that happens, and you must be prepared for it. I recently heard a guy trying to get pumped up before a meeting in there. “You. Got. This.” No joke. I had to fake cough to save this goober from further embarrassment. That’s usually the best part. As soon as they realize someone else is in there, they’ll zip up and get the F out to avoid being identified. Weirdos.
Someone Soiled The Seat
Who the hell are you people? This is an office building, not a minor league hockey game. You can’t just spray down a perfectly decent toilet seat. I’m positive there’s a guy in my building who has less control than C.J. Wilson during an important start. What are you even doing in there? Oh, and these dudes who forego the urinal and use a stall just to drain the liz? They’re selfish and not to be trusted. If there’s an open urinal and you choose to use a stall, I’m going to assume you have a double dick or something. What are you hiding, nerd?
The seriousness of a no option trip to the bathroom will vary, but even the least severe failed trip will throw your day off. If you’re like me, you time these things to coincide with high stress events of your day, and the slightest glitch in the matrix can have consequences. First of all, you have to walk back to your desk with a completely loaded colon. Then you’re tasked with the mentally taxing guessing game in which you predict not only when one of those guys will be done, but when it will be safe to enter without a hazmat uniform. Awful.
And heaven forbid you stroll in there on Dook Level Black and see nothing available for you. Maybe there’s an option on another floor of your building, but waddling down a set of stairs is risky.
There’s A Heavy Breather In There With You
“Is this guy dying?” I recently wondered as the poor SOB next to me panted like Fatty McGee after climbing a rope ladder. I mean, I realize that he’s in there giving birth to a football, but damn, you’re killing my vibe.
Certain coworkers have uncanny abilities to ruin things. A trip to the bathroom is no exception. It could be the Mike, the guy who carries on a conversation while ridding his body of waste, or James, the guy who you know is judging you for the absolute slaughter you’re throwing down in the handicap stall. I used to work with a guy who would talk in-depth Rangers baseball with me as we sat there. It didn’t matter if a third party walked in, this guy wanted to break down the entire forty-man roster. I respected his knowledge, but even the great game is off limits in the dumper.
Imagine charging in there only to find the door being propped open by a janitor’s cart. Is it dick to go in there and rip it up? What’s the proper thing to do here?
No Phone Service
It’s rare, but every few weeks I’ll enter the lion’s den only to find that I have zero service. It makes no sense, and it’s hard to get past. It’s like trying to work without headphones. Yeah, you can do it, but I’ll be dammed if it’s just not the same. I haven’t figured out who, or what, is to blame for this, but I usually use it as an excuse to shit-talk our office building.
You Don’t Make It
Worst case scenario. This is why you always bring your wallet, keys, and phone to the men’s room. If you don’t make it and there’s nobody around to notice, you need to bail. Tell them you got food poisoning and were too sick to even tell anyone. It’s somewhat true. Don’t get any ideas about cleaning up and making a comeback. It’s not worth the risk of being the guy who kinda smells like poop..
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