Freak!!!
I will accept a certain amount of weirdness out of life and not complain about it, because let's face it: life is a series of bizarre events all linked together and a lot of weird crap happens. So I can understand that everyone has quirks. Heck, I have a few of my own (really, I do). But there are certain things in life a man MUST NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE DO. Cross-dressing for any reason other than Halloween comes to mind, but that's not what I'm concerned with here. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Crimes against nature.
Ok, as a man, one of the last places we can retreat to in times of distress is the bathroom. It's a sanctuary, and one can imagine Quasimodo tottering toward the mens room in Notre Dame with Esmerelda cradled in his arms. Get the picture? Ok, so I've been drinking a crapload of water today because there's a chili-fest cookoff thing going on in here and I'm trying to fool my stomach into thinking it's partaken in the joy of legumes and beef. Finally, my bladder swollen to wineskin proportions, I sought relief in the tiny restroom around the corner from my cube. I've grown fond of this restroom, and think of it as my Other Office. One urinal, one stall. Well, I'm making an offering to the porcelain stand-up God and I notice the door come open. Fine, I think. He'll use the stall.
But no. This gentleman stands about three feet behind me and waits for me to finish. And the stream dwindles like a river in Death Valley. I glance over my shoulder and this guy looks like a cross between Rob Zombie and the Tall Man from the movie PHANTASM. I'm terrified, and I can only think to zip and run. I can feel this man sizing me up, probably wondering if my skin would make a good shirt. Run, I think. Get out. Yet I am frozen in place, not peeing.
This is just SO WRONG! You do not watch someone pee! Not ever! Look at the wall behind you. The floor. Anywhere but at the unrinator. Cracker, please!
I somehow manage to zip, wash, and flee. And here I sit. Waiting. Stapler clasped in my sweaty palm, my last and only line of defense against the Bathroom Horror...
Ok, as a man, one of the last places we can retreat to in times of distress is the bathroom. It's a sanctuary, and one can imagine Quasimodo tottering toward the mens room in Notre Dame with Esmerelda cradled in his arms. Get the picture? Ok, so I've been drinking a crapload of water today because there's a chili-fest cookoff thing going on in here and I'm trying to fool my stomach into thinking it's partaken in the joy of legumes and beef. Finally, my bladder swollen to wineskin proportions, I sought relief in the tiny restroom around the corner from my cube. I've grown fond of this restroom, and think of it as my Other Office. One urinal, one stall. Well, I'm making an offering to the porcelain stand-up God and I notice the door come open. Fine, I think. He'll use the stall.
But no. This gentleman stands about three feet behind me and waits for me to finish. And the stream dwindles like a river in Death Valley. I glance over my shoulder and this guy looks like a cross between Rob Zombie and the Tall Man from the movie PHANTASM. I'm terrified, and I can only think to zip and run. I can feel this man sizing me up, probably wondering if my skin would make a good shirt. Run, I think. Get out. Yet I am frozen in place, not peeing.
This is just SO WRONG! You do not watch someone pee! Not ever! Look at the wall behind you. The floor. Anywhere but at the unrinator. Cracker, please!
I somehow manage to zip, wash, and flee. And here I sit. Waiting. Stapler clasped in my sweaty palm, my last and only line of defense against the Bathroom Horror...
posted by Anonymous at 2:04 PM
1 Comments:
This guy needs to learn proper bathroom etiquette. When in the bathroom, you don't make eye contact, you don't look below the neck, you don't speak to anyone for any reason except maybe an excuse me, and you certainly do not stand behind someone while they are taking a leak. It is hard enough to perform when another person is in the room, let alone when someone is behind you when you are at your most vulnerable. Get in, look at the walls, do your business, wash your hands and get out. It's that simple.
Speaking of bathrooms and urinals, there is a phantom bathroom eater where I work. A few months ago, I saw something on the lip of the toilet. At first I thought it was a bug, so standing back a few feet, as long as my arms would allow, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and pushed it into the commode. Turns out it was a sunflower seed. Someone had been sitting on the can and eating sunflower seeds. How disgusting is that???
Well I soon forgot about it, thinking it was an errant sunflower seed that someone had attached it to someone's shirt and jiggled its way off during the old rising of the shirt. Yeah, that's what I told myself, until last week. Another sunflower seed, this time located directly underneath the urinal. The sunflower seed bandit was back! And somehow, in some way I haven't figured out yet, they managed to eat sunflower seeds while standing up taking a leak. You do the math, it isn't possible without manhood to sunflower seed interswapping of handage. Savages.
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