You probably know by now that when I’m bored I run to the toilet and lock myself in a cubicle, sit down and breathe. No, not because my olfactory senses crave that kinda smell. No sir! It’s because it’s precious time alone with my thoughts. Being alone helps me make sense of my thoughts. And I’m not the only one. Brian does his programming on what he calls the throne of inspiration. You can read all about it here.
So here I was again, in the office loo. Pooping and thinking about how to deal with a particularly strange problem I’ve been having with someone at work. No, I don’t poop at work regularly. It’s because of all the gooseberries I had for breakfast. Apparently you can’t have a kilo at a time.
Huh! Anyhoo. I was pooping and thinking, and suddenly I became aware of a strange sensation on my back. I felt wet. Back there. It was strange because there isn’t an overhead tank in the loo. I turned around and saw, to my horror, a man’s hand with a hose pipe spurting water all over the wall. I could see a man’s hand and the hose he was holding with it. Through the exhaust vent. I froze. He kept pouring water, which wasn’t helping the situation.
I called out asking him to stop pouring water all over me. By this time, my top was soaking wet. It took me a while to get up. I was understandably afraid of the man outside being able to see my bare ass as I got up, pulled up my pants, buttoned them, and zipped up. I had to do ALL of this with my gaze fixed on the opening. I accomplished the series of tasks with superhuman speed and as much elan as possible.
As soon as I stepped out, humiliation stepped in. Like, the lowest, most undignified form of humiliation. A working man had possibly just seen not only my bare bottom, but also poop coming out of it, and now clothes were wet and my nipples taut, visible through my clothes. I locked the toilet door, took off my top, and held it under the dryer for the longest time. My arms ached and people banged on the door, but I didn’t let that stop me.
Once this bit was done, I had two choices: either be upset about it or put it up on the blog. I chose both. First, I sent out the following email to the admin department: Then, I went and stuck assorted notes in the toilet that said:
- See before you pee!
- A word of caution for those pooping: someone could be snooping
- Careful where you sit, someone could be watching as you shit
- Dear pooper, behind you there’s a snooper
- I know this looks crass, but someone’s got a full view of your ass
Okay, I know this wasn’t fair, but I had to. Really. A lot of girls came out giggling and this became a huge issue in office today. They didn’t respond to my email, but they did finally put up chart paper where the exhaust is, and here’s what the vent looks like now.
Wonder how long it’ll last against the water jet, but what the heck! I have my thinking spot back, at least for now! Do you have any bizarre washroom stories to share? I’m listening!