Well, except for the occasional street person that we would find in there, shaving or what-not. And the Phantom Pooper. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Our men’s room was always quite tidy, and I never had reason to complain about the state in which it was left. After all, my coworkers are all professionals, they are all adults, it would be odd if they didn’t leave the bathroom tidy. In fact, I never really thought about it.
The only thing marring this otherwise unremarkable state of affairs was the Phantom Pooper. This was not someone from the second floor, this was some interloper from another floor. His modus operandi was to go to a different floor, seemingly at random, to use the toilet. Once in the stall, he would put town a paper toilet seat cover, and then assemble some kind of … nest on top of it. There would be six, eight, ten layers of toilet paper, laid down in swaths, completely covering the toilet seat. He would do his business. And then he would bolt out of the restroom at a dead run, leaving his ‘nest’ behind.
The next person to enter the men’s room would find this bizarre assemblage of toilet paper, like a shrine to the bowel movement. If you were lucky, the toilet would actually be flushed, but that wasn’t a given by any means. This was, of course, a frequent topic of conversation. How germ phobic do you have to be to require that much insulation between your butt and the toilet seat? Bear in mind, the restrooms were kept quite clean. This isn’t like the men’s room down at the ‘76 station off the interstate.
The Phantom Pooper stopped coming to our men’s room when he was caught in the act, and the receptionist gave him the hairy eyeball as he tried to leave unobtrusively. I think he crossed the second floor off his rotation.
I thought that the Phantom Pooper displayed the most screwed-up bathroom behavior I was ever likely to see. But I was wrong. Oh, so wrong. You see, I subsequently moved to the third floor, where my employer was not the only business on the floor. And I discovered that I had been spoiled indeed, by the neat and tidy bathroom habits of my coworkers.
The Phantom Pooper still visits the third floor. We know this because we find his little toilet seat constructions on a regular basis. Again, he can’t be bothered to clean up the thick cushion of paper he deposits on the toilet seat, he just walks away.
And there is apparently another germ phobe that actually works on the third floor, because the floor of the men’s room is always littered with paper towels. Some are dropped in front of the trash bin, as if it was too much trouble to actually get them into the trash. Some are dropped on the floor next to the door, where clearly someone didn’t want to actually touch the door handle. Inexplicably, there used to be one carefully folded paper towel sitting on top of the urinal, every day. Why? What reason could there be to carry a paper towel over to the urinal? And why leave it there? And in addition to paper towels, any other bit of paper, like scraps of toilet paper, or the cardboard tube from an empty roll, is simply dropped on the floor. So the men’s room always looks like a pig sty. But it gets worse.
The clutter of dirty paper towels is almost charming compared to the effect of the gentleman who, for whatever reason, refuses to use the urinal. Instead, he uses the toilet, straddling it, and letting forth a stream that would do a quarterhorse proud. However, he never, ever, ever, raises the toilet seat before doing so. As a result, on any given day, you will enter the stall only to find the seat covered with big fat drops of piss.
This completely boggles my mind. This is a professional office worker, who wears a suit nearly every day, and yet engages in the kind of behavior that your mother has usually stomped out of you by the time you are five years old. Is there no consideration for anyone else that has to use this facility? No, there is not.
For a while, someone was throwing a paper towel into the urinal, resulting in a stoppage that would nearly cause a torrential overflow. This went on, every single day, until someone posted a sign reading simply “STOP THROWING PAPER TOWELS IN THE URINAL OR I WILL STICK MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS”. It has not happened since. I wish whichever proactive individual that left the sign would put up a similar one for Captain Quarterhorse.
But the last straw, the thing that has convinced me that I’m dealing with lower primates here, is that someone has been using the time they spend standing at the urinal to mine for boogers, and wipe them carefully onto the wall. At first I thought it was a fluke, perhaps some juvenile guest of an employee. But no. Every day the wall is scrubbed clean, and every day they reappear. And you can’t ignore them. They are the only spot of color on an otherwise clean white tile wall right in front of you.
I am completely flummoxed by this; that there are people, employed in an office environment, that have this kind of disregard for hygiene and normal consideration for others. What’s next? Will I enter the men’s room only to find the remains of some kind of poo-flinging contest? I have considered trekking down to the second floor whenever I feel the call of nature, but then the primates will have won, you see.
Honestly, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Um… wow. That’s all I gotta say.
A few jobs ago an e-mail was sent to all the men in the office (around 30 of us). It was from our CFO. I still recall the exact wording of the message: “You’re all adults. I presume you’re all potty trained. Please stop pissing on the floor.”
I think an e-mail might do the trick, much like the example above. Finding that people notice what a mess you make could get one to change his habits.
There are signs in some of our restrooms that say “please flush toilet before leaving stall”. It floors me that there must have been an incident or incidents that resulted in this needing to be posted. And why do women insist on using their cell phones while on the toilet? I run into this everywhere!
You need to secretly film the offender in action and show it at the next staff meeting. What a sicko.
I worked briefly as a temp for a very high profile, professional company. Being that I was in the Facilities Management Department I was in on the discussions of how to put a stop to this….someone was pooing on the floor in the men’s restroom! They even wiped it on the walls occassionally! And it was definitely an employee because you had to have card key access.
Wonder what a psych would have to say about that one?
I think PAgent hit the nail on the head without regognizing it. In this “too fast” and impersonal society with so many households comprised of both parents working maybe Mom didn’t have the time to impart (proper) hygeine and thougtfullness to her offspring. Maybe Mom opted out and left it to the Daycare, Kindergarten and early Primary school caregivers who simply took the stance of “SORRY,NOT MY JOB”. This would result in Young Dick and Jane doing things however they decided was best since it was easy and nobody seems to care. Core values tend to form early = You are the product of your environment even if you do have a Masters degree. I love the hidden camera idea but in this litigous society it seems in-advisable. Soldgier on PAgent.
What can we expect from people, when eBay accepts an auction on their site for “Suri’s Bronze Poop” sculpture. Give me a break. First that babys colon isn’t even finished growing. Newborns “poop” has NO form. Sheesh!
There is a sign in one of the men’s room at work that reads. “We aim to please. You aim too, please.”
I work in a professional office and it still amazes me that I am the first person to actually say something about the urine on the toilet seats in the lady’s room. I printed out signs that say- If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie!
It has worked so far. I am still trying to figure out a way to keep from being crop dusted ( farting as you walk by).
What a story!I Thought this was something from my old pal Mike @ the chicago tribune wrote.I Was waiting to find out that Slats Grobnick was the culprit. What a hoot! I’m so glad I work for myself, building the very sanctuaries you pollute. have fun folks.
“Be like Dad and not like Sis,
Raise the seat before you piss!”
Well, I do have to say to Rick, maybe the problem is his mom did teach him but his dad never reinforced it. That is why most women’s restrooms do not have these types of incidents. Not saying it never happens in women’s restrooms, just not as common. Men on the other hand tend to do what they want, when they want. I am the mother of 5 sons and 1 daughter. My daughter is 3-she is cleaner than all 5 of her brothers put together!! So I think this is more of a genetic thing!