Tag Archives: bathroom

Making Friends at the Office

31 Mar
Ah yes...

Ah yes…

My office recently moved to a new location. The space is beautiful, and – as a special perk – we’re excited that the new ladies’ room has six stalls, automatic flushers and stall doors that lock. (I know: We’re SPOILED.)

We share our floor with four other tenants, one of whom I met the other day – as chance would have it – in the bathroom. Well, I didn’t really meet her, but I did encounter her.

I entered the bathroom and there she was, a set of feet peeking out of the second stall with pants pooled around her ankles. (Question: have you ever let your pants touch the floor of a public restroom? I go out of my way to hoist them so that my cuffs won’t even touch, but that might be my OCD shining through. Discuss.)

So I entered my stall and heard her talking. At first I thought it was to me, but then I realized – based on the incomplete sentences punctuated by silence – that she was on the phone. I was incredulous.

Screen Shot 2013-03-31 at 12.43.07 PM


Also? I did my best to pee as loudly as possible in an attempt to “out” her poor behavior. She remained unfazed.

“Must be talking with a family member,” I thought.

But then she said, “OK, Dave. Thanks for the update. I’ll  loop in the home office then circle back to you. Want to send me a meeting invite?” Which clearly isn’t anything you’d say to your spouse, right?

Before she could wrap up the call, I did what any normal person would do: I flushed. Twice. Just to make sure her colleague knew with certainty that she had called him from a bathroom stall.

If it happens again, I’ve already worked out my strategy. I’m going to pound on the stall wall and shout, “My God! Ever hear of a courtesy flush?”

I really love our new office.

This doesn’t seem well planned…

8 Apr

In the O’Hare airport bathroom this week I encountered this sign:

Does anything about this strike you as odd?

How about the fact that it’s written in braille? Now, I might not be visually impaired, but I think it’s safe to assume that a blind person isn’t going to walk into a public restroom stall and start running her hands over every surface, looking for a plaque that tells her how the toilet works.

Once I processed that image, I thought about the alternative: imagine the poor person who comes in and blindly sits on this toilet without knowing the odd mechanics involved with this toilet seat.

First, it feels like it’s lined with plastic baggies.

Second, it’s quite likely that it will start moving while the person is sitting on it, since it’s triggered by a motion sensor.

I’m pretty sure that’s the kind of experience psychologists are talking about when they use phrases like “emotionally scarred.”

Now that’ve had a chance to think through it, I hope that the braille on that sign isn’t simply repeating the printed instructions that people can see. Instead, when the toilet seat rotates a seated blind person around it and she sticks out her hands for balance and finds this sign, I hope it says:  You might be disoriented, but at least you’re not sitting in someone else’s pee.

Or maybe even: Carnival ride is over. Please dismount and deposit a nickel in the bin on your right.

You can tell we’re related. And not just because of our humor.

11 Mar

In the middle of my otherwise stressful work day, I checked my personal email and found this gem waiting for me from my sister, who shares my sense of humor:

Last night I had my spinning class and was super gassy. I’ve never done this before, but last night had to go to the bathroom to let off a little pressure because I was getting crampy.  There were 2 girls in there, probably middle-school age.  I go whipping in (trying to hurry so I can get back to class), go in a stall, and though I tried to be quiet, end up ripping some of the largest, squealiest farts.  Then the girls started giggling.  I peed and then had some more gas, which was just as obnoxious.  They whispered and giggled some more.  I went out to wash my hands and figured I had to own it.  I said, “I know.  It’s nasty.  But I figure better here than in class.”  They couldn’t even look at me.

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I suppose this justifies kids owning cell phones.

24 Feb

When I was in second grade, a McDonald’s opened in my small, five-stoplight midwestern town. It was a pretty big deal, so pretty much the entire town’s population – including my mom, my seventh grade sister and me – turned up for the grand opening.

Middle school is not the time when you want your little sister clinging around, so Alicia did her best to ditch me and hang with her friends as soon as we entered the restaurant. My mom had other plans, however, so after securing our tray of food, she seated us at a table next to where my sister sat with her friends.

Alicia tried to ignore me. I tried to pretend I was part of her table. My mom tried to mediate, making us each a bit more accommodating of the other.

And then I went to the bathroom.

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Kind of like dueling banjos… but a bit less melodic.

30 Jan

My friend Krista was in town this weekend, so last night a group of us headed to an Indian restaurant for dinner together. Because I have a bladder the approximate size of a golf ball, as soon as we arrived, I cruised to the bathroom.

There were two (one for the men, one for the ladies) but they were of the single room variety, where you lock the door behind you rather than seal yourself into a stall.

So imagine my surprise when – after locking the door – I found myself facing THIS arrangement:

I’ve seen some crazy bathrooms in my day (one word: Italy) but this was by far the most thought provoking.

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