Skip to main content

Bathroom Paradise





by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
I hate the bathroom at work.  Most of the time, it stinks.  I realize that's just how bathrooms are and the building's vents clear the air fairly quickly.  But in the few minutes that it takes to clear the air, I am in there and it stinks.

There is more to my distaste for the bathroom than this.  My colleagues are a mess.  They leave newspapers in the stalls, are sloppy about insuring complete flush, and are far too careless about placing the hand wipes in the waste basket.  Can these folks be this dirty and so unsanitary in their home?  I suspect not.  Senior management also uses the same bathroom.  Maybe my colleagues are angry at the company for something or other and try to take it out on the company in this way.  Maybe that works for them but it's a terrible annoyance to the rest of us.

Using the same bathroom must be horrific for senior management.  Imagine that you are the all-powerful boss and you have to use the same bathroom as the lowest employee in the company hierarchy.  I imagine that as the supreme boss, you cannot go into a stall and commence to loudly pass gas, grunt as you poop, and to stink up the place.  Then you have to go outside and become once again, the supreme boss.  How humiliating.  I suppose that bosses everywhere have to do their business in the quietest way possible or hold it until they get home.  Hmm, explains some things.

At one time we had just the urinals on the wall.  No problem there.  We would use it and respect each others' privacy.  Well, one day, barriers appeared separating the urinals.  We speculated that one of the bosses must have peeked and noticed that some of us lowly employees are quite gifted in the manhood department and that no doubt stirred up huge amounts of envy.  Well, that's a boss for you, always measuring something – productivity, performance, and … 

   
And what of women’s bathrooms?  I have never been in there but Urban Legend is that women have a lounge in there --  sofas and coffee tables; vanities with lights and mirrors for applying make-up; flat screen TVs with surround sound in the stalls; and best of all, automatic air fresheners.
       

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Memoir - The Year of Kent State

by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
I wanted to write a fictional memoir and it got away from me. 

Original
I was born in the Year of Kent State. I didn't know. I was watching a cable channel specializing in historical programs, in this case, newsworthy events from the 1970s. The Ohio National Guard shot 13 unarmed students protesting the Vietnam War on the Kent State University campus. Four students died. By the time I was aware of a bigger world than my own, Kent State passed into history.

Climbing to New Heights

by The Urban Blabbermouth
~
It started when I was ten.  I was riding shotgun with my father when a small plane crossed the highway in front of us.  The plane floated gently to its landing, like it had all the time in the world.  It was beautiful.  I knew then I wanted to be a pilot.  

I dreamed of soaring with the clouds and flying through them.  I could go anywhere the crow flies.  No stuck in traffic following a road as laid out by some anonymous engineer.  I could fly with the birds, although, I never thought myself a bird.  I loved the freedom.

But, I fear heights.  

It's not just any heights, it's low heights, the kind you get with stairs, balconies, bridges, and landing airplanes.  When I fly on airlines as a passenger, I look out the window at thirty thousand feet, no fear.  Somewhere between six feet, my height, and thirty thousand feet, airplane's height, lives my fear, a mysterious feeling that emerges from my stomach and rises up into my chest.  I can't…

Im gonna git u Sukkah

by The Urban Blabbermouth [who may or may not be shown in the photo above... - v-E] ~ True story. I am walking to my car and I notice a couple of Jewish fellows, twenty somethings, with the bouquets of what looks like bamboo or palm. I know they are Jewish for they look Hasidic. They are wearing long black jackets, wide brim black fedora hats, and have curly sideburns. In truth, I classify all Jewish who dress like this as Hasidic although they may identify themselves differently. They are standing near the corner canvassing passersby.