I make my email open to the public because content doesn’t sleep and I don’t want to miss any must-cover leads when they trickle in. It angers me when I see people getting pageviews for stuff that’s right in my wheelhouse. Really grinds my gears.
But when you open up the floodgates and allow anyone to walk through the door, you’re going to get some emails that you wouldn’t expect to come across your desk on a daily basis. Kind of like this one from a dude who apparently needs a fan in his disgustingly smelly and congested bathroom.
This is unedited, and printed in full with every detail except his name.
I wouldn’t normally take the time to write about a problem that seems so miniscule, but it has bothered me every day since I’ve been here and I simply must get these feelings out.
I recently took a new position within my company, so I joined a whole new team. With this change came a new location, a new building, with new bathrooms. The bathrooms themselves are not new, just new to me. Of the 3 bathrooms I’ve been able to find, the layouts are all the same: 3 urinals, 3 stalls, 3 sinks, and zero fan.
Before moving into this new building, the bathroom situation I was in was one I think I took for granted. My last building had one men’s bathroom on our floor, and it had 2 urinals and 1 stall. If you had to use the stall and someone was there, you just pretended to only need to wash your hands (because God knows you can’t just pee when you have to poo) or you just walked out and waited, keeping an ear on the door. But now, with 3 stalls and in a bigger building with more people, it is pretty much guaranteed you are pooing next to someone. Normally, I’m okay with that. I’ve done it before and it’s something you just have to get used to. But not when it’s dead silent. As I mentioned, there are no exhaust fans, which means there is no background noise. And I can’t think I’m the only one that has a problem with this.
You can learn a lot about a person when you poo next to them. The person next to me is hearing exactly when things start to open up, and most likely can determine characteristics of my movement, about which I won’t go into detail. Also, now they know my wiping style, like how much TP I use, and also that I belong to the camp that believes that the most effective wiping is done when I stand up and can spread my legs a little. At this point I don’t think it’s a good thing that the person next to me is a stranger; I kind of which it was one of my really close buddies that I feel comfortable with. I believe that is a primal and animalistic instinct to not want to feel this type of vulnerability in the presence of men you don’t know. Being new around here, this quite pooing environment is kind of intimidating. These guys I’m pooing next to are learning things about me that I don’t normally share. And I think a fan could be a simple remedy to drown out some sound, and some smell.
When all three stalls are taken, and you are in one of them, maybe you think about trying to wait them out? Maybe you try to distract yourself with your phone long enough until you have the place to yourself when you can really unleash. But when nature is calling louder and louder and you don’t want to play this sick game anymore, you go for it. And in my case yesterday, I did and I clogged the damn thing. And because there is so fan, the guys I was with definitely knew. Because there is no plunger, there wasn’t much I could do except wash my hands and get the hell out of there. Until, of course, some other guy waltzes in and goes directly for my clogged stall. I was trying to get out of there as soon as possible, but not before that guy could flash me a look as if he just walked in and saw a dead body. I pray I don’t ever see him again.
We have departmental Town Hall coming up, so naturally I submitted an online inquiry as to when we will be able to instill bathroom exhaust fans. Hopefully this issue is addressed.
Man, when I came into work today, I was definitely like, “Huh, I hope some poop leads are in my inbox.” Oh, wait, no, I wasn’t. I was just trying to sip some coffee and stack paper while writing about basic bitches like I always do. But sometimes God throws you an underhanded lob that he’s just begging you to knock out of the park into the masses. Just turns out this lob was in the form of a workplace dookie email. .
If you’ve got any absurd stories or office gripes that the world needs to hear about, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Image via Shutterstock