Potty Humor

Ok, I really have an issue with whoever designed my work building and decided to put one women’s restroom on the first floor. It has a sufficient number of stalls – that is not my problem. The issue is that an awful lot of women of all kinds of personalities work on the bottom floor and so everybody knows everybody’s business – literally.

There are those that view the women’s restroom as a water cooler of sorts and hang out to catch up.
There are those that think it’s the best place to yell at their husbands on their cell phone.
Other women think it’s the best place to schedule meetings with a friend from another department in order to gossip about all the other women in their respective departments.
I can’t leave out the former employee that was actually mentally ill, paranoid, and always freezing in her office – so she would just come to work and hide in the bathroom – sometimes in a stall but sometimes just standing in the corner staring at you.
Or the former employee that wrongfully accused another employee of assaulting her in the bathroom because the boss liked her better.

Of course, there are also students, random people lost in the building, community members, drug monitors, etc.

To top it all off, the housekeepers cleaning schedule seems to align perfectly with my own internal schedule (more than you wanted to know, I’m sure – but quite frustrating for me).

There are other options, but none are really favorable. There is the one-seater in the library – but who wants to make a trip to the library for that? Not to mention that libraries are quiet and the bathroom door is not that thick. There is the one-seater in the Family Medicine department – but it is by the office manager’s desk, and you have to tell her you have come upstairs to use their bathroom. The best choice seems to be the patient’s restroom upstairs. You may be in there with other people, but at least you’re anonymous and you’ve added stair climbing to your day.

Things have gotten better than they once were. They have moved the employee whose office location enabled her to identify you by walking gait and shoe noise and count how many times a day you went to the bathroom – which she would tell – to you and anybody else willing to listen.

I do love my job. I’m just saying that our bathroom makes those weird “women’s lounges” in department stores make an awful lot of sense.

Image from: http://www.shorpy.com/node/5724