Disregard the sunny optimism of my previous post. Somebody did some heart-breaking work this morning.
Men, you need to FLUSH. It's not optional. It's what you must do at the end of the session.
If you have done so much damage that the technology is unable to process your deposit, you must call the building manager. This is not courtesy, it's basic humanity.
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I happened to venture up this morning from the 4th floor to the fifth floor, or shall we call it the FILTH floor, mens room...and upon swinging open the stall door was greeted with a ghastly site..I won't go in to the details..
Ironically I was seeking refuge from a contaminated 4fth floor mens room..but nothing like what I stumbled into..the lid was risen..as if defiantly..for the world to see..and it was..well..I couldn't agree more w/ Potty Blogger..
What makes people think it's ok to destroy a toilet and then leave it for someone else to deal with..you could at the very least show some humility and lower the lid..i know the water pressure isn't strong in ths building, but there's no reason why grown adults can be more responsible with their TP use..no more than one wrap around the hand per reach..
Maybe what we actually need is a twitter account for the bathroom so that everyone can be constantly kept up to date as to the freshness of the bathroom. THough I can just see it now:
>bzz< (Checks phone)
Wife: What is it, is a server down?
Me: No, someone dropped off a huge turd in the bathroom at work.
Wife: ... and you get this information on your cell phone?
Me: Yea.
Wife: You've really brought the term "irreconcilable differences" to a whole new level.
This problem seems to persist throughout the building. Here on the 3rd floor we do not usually run into the leavings of others, but instead encounter what we politely call the "creeping death".
This roaming cloud of unbelievable stench waits in hiding until the unsuspecting victim has already dropped trou to commence their business, at which time it engulfs the poor user with an odor so noxiously powerful that we swear it burns the skin off of your face. Of course by the time the burning sensation starts other operations are underway and the user is forced to courageously wait it out.
Initially I thought that there was a single rogue bathroom sniper in the building, but due to the differing symptoms of the various floors I now suspect that some kind of pooper-cell has infiltrated the building, possibly hiding out in the basement near the bike racks.
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