Quiet Please

I’m convinced that the cleaning lady at work lives in the men’s bathroom.  She’s always in there. 

There are two bathrooms in my office building, one on the first floor and one on the second.  I’m upstairs.  If I need to go, invariably, her big rolling trash can is blocking the open door.  That is her signal – DON’T COME IN, I’M CLEANING.  But I don’t think she is. 

I think she stands outside of my office and runs to the men’s bathroom when she sees my chair turn around.  She then giggles when she hears my footsteps near her cart.

If I’m headed in from lunch and decide to take a pit stop on the first floor  before heading back upstairs, guess what?  She’s parked her hefty Rubbermaid in the downstairs doorway. 

I think she’s in there watching a television that’s hardwired to a camera above my desk.  

Although I’ve worked in that building for three years, I’ve never seen her though.  How could I?  She’s always inside, “cleaning”.

The other day, when the downstairs was closed, I sprinted upstairs before she could get her can on the elevator.  I’m sure she was upset when she heard me rapidly heading for the stairwell.  Can’t carry the can on your back up the steps lady!  I beat cha’.

When I walked in to the second floor bathroom, there was a dude in the center stall chatting on the phone.  Just chatting and pooping – simultaneously.  I bet he can also walk and chew gum.

What is wrong with people?  Imagine being on the other end of that call – when suddenly you hear the toilet flush.  I could tell by the conversation that it was a work call.  It’s not like he was talking ACC sports with Jesse or something.  No, he was doing business while he was doing biz-ness.

I don’t want to talk in the bathroom.  If I’m at the urinal, I need quiet.  Don’t come up to me and ask about my weekend.  I don’t want to hear about the new software conversion or the monthly budget.  Scares my bladder – and then I’ve got to leave and hope to return when the maid is at lunch.

It is my dream to one day be important enough to have my own personal bathroom attached to my office.  Until then, if you see me near the boys’ room, leave me alone!

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2 Comments

  1. Mom

     /  August 22, 2012

    I’m with you, Bruce! I’ve heard conversations that the Secret Service would have loved to have heard only because women had the walls of the bathroom stalls around them. Of course, bathrooms are more interesting than they used to be. Now, Wayne and I just say, “what’s the story today” after we have visited one because there’s always a story now. I am now working on a grading system covering the cleanest, the most interesting people’s bathroom haunts and the ones to avoid at any cost. You’ll probably see the book out in a couple of years.

    Reply
  2. Evie Lichti

     /  August 22, 2012

    Yaayyy! for Mom!! I want a copy!

    Reply

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