A cautionary tale : A semi-private Bathroom

This is a true story.

 

 

Happened to me yesterday, and no names have been changed to protect the guilty. The following is not for the easily offended nor the weak of stomach.

You’ve been warned. 🙂

 

Okay, I’ve been on my new position for going on two years and one of the perks of the job is a semi-private bathroom. Doesn’t sound like much, but to something of a card-carrying germ-a-phobe; it is quite appreciated.

 

 

The luxury of not having to share your space with throngs or traffic or the hopefully forgettable noises from the next stall, is just priceless. Plus the semi-private bathroom is always kept in clean immaculate condition, and they even have those toilet seat protectors, which you do not find, nor have the time, luxury or space to use in the typical bathroom stall.

 

 

So all in all it is a luxury, and I now find it along with salary, benefits, view (I have to see sunlight, the outdoors), job environment (laid back, etc), one of the big 5 that I’ll look for in any future jobs. At least a semi-private bathroom.

 

 

The pluses: Less traffic, less people, consistently cleaned and stocked and people flush. In almost two years there, generally speaking, never an issue. A piece of paper inadvertently found outside rather than inside the trashcan is about it.

 

 

However nothing can escape a mishap or two.

 

 

Today I walked into the bathroom, sink on the left as you enter and first thing you see in front of you is the toilet. I saw the toilet, stopped dead in my tracks, and heard the door click behind me, those three things happened nearly at the same time, and my first impulse was flight, to back right out of the bathroom.

I held.

 

 

And looked again.

 

 

It was like somebody had stuffed a clown in the toilet.

 

 

That they hadn’t flushed was offensive enough. That this had come from someone’s bowels was not conceivable.

I stopped making eye contact (because to look too long would have threatened sanity), grabbed a paper towel, walked up on the toilet and using the paper towel flushed.

 

 

I had a half formed concern that the thing wouldn’t flush and I would be stuck with calling maintenance to remove the blockage. But I didn’t have time to give too much credence to this concern, this thing had to go now.

I flushed.

Mercifully most of it, including what looked like a clown’s shoe, disappeared on first flush. Two more flushes and it was vacated enough for me to wash my hands before re-approaching, and gingerly, holding my breath, perform number one, still avoiding eye contact… lest something crawl back out the bowl.

I flushed a fourth time, washed my hands savagely, and left having addressed and saved anyone else the horror of the clown in the toilet.

Moral of the story : For the love of heaven… flush the toilet and wash your hands.  And change your diet!!! 🙂

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