Someone at my workplace fancies themselves an Alaskan prospector because they like to go digging for golden nuggets. They like to explore the caves, as it were. They like to manually extract mucus from their nasal cavities, so to speak (well, not really “so to speak,” more like, “exactly to speak”).
And they like to show off their treasures by sticking them on the walls of the bathroom stall.
Bear in mind, this is (ostensibly) a WOMAN doing this, since I do (almost) exclusively use the ladies powder room (*Disclaimer: Unless I’m in a club and have had multiple beers and the girl’s line is just too damn long and no one really seems to be using the men’s room at all and I’ll only be a second, so it’s really not a big deal, right? Or, if I’m tubing. Then I pee with nature. Quite happily, I might add).
Anyway, back to the Madame Booger-Sharer. It has happened on multiple occasions, so we can’t blame it on a visiting guest. Other co-workers and I have talked about it on previous occasions, speculating on who this disgusting individual is, assuring each other it was no one in our immediate group.
Still, a Booger Digger dwells amongst us. Probably wearing normal workday clothes, from Ann Taylor or something, and eating normal lunchtime foods like a Lean Cuisine heated in the microwave oven. I bet this person goes directly from putting her chicken alfredo in the microwave to walking down the hall to the bathroom. (shudder).
The last time I encountered the little crusties clinging to the grout (just last week,) I had my camera with me. You know, so I would have evidence for when I blogged about it. BEHOLD.
That’s right. I JUST DID THAT. (Number of times the automatic toilet flusher went off while I was documenting this latest transgression: 5.)
But while we are on the subject, there are a couple of other pet peeves I’d like to bring up (of course, because when do I ever stop at just one thing?).
Ladies who use toilet seat covers: You’re obviously a lady of discriminating taste, concerned about hygiene. You would never dream of allowing your thighs to touch a toilet seat that has been used by other thighs. So why, oh why, do you leave your used toilet seat covers clinging helplessly to the seat when you are done? There is it, gently lifting with every breeze, until some poor hapless pisser such as myself, is confronted and confounded by it. The last thing I want to do when going into the bathroom is to gingerly pick up your used toilet seat cover and toss it into the bowl. This leads to some awkward kick-the-paper game that’s difficult to accomplish and dangerous in a small toilet stall.
Also: Do you think that after grooming yourself, brushing your hair and cleaning the hair out of said brush, you could throw the accumulated hair away? I know it must give you much satisfaction to see it clump up at the bottom of toilet bowl, like a dark spider ready to startle the next hapless victim who comes in to tinkle. But it’s quite startling. And, really, disgusting.
Those seem to be the main transgressions. I want to assure you, Dear Reader, that I do work at a very nice place with lots of well-paid and seemingly normal people. Has anyone else encountered any of these situations?
I’m actually thinking about taking the pictures of the Bathroom Booger Collection and making a “Lost” poster to post throughout our floor at work. “Lost: golden nuggets. Last seen: women’s bathroom on September 2. Friendly, comes to name ‘goldie.’ Please return to owner for reward.”
Maybe I should just work from home.