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eight months pass...
two years pass...
this little story transcends categorization
it's a little bit of poop, a little bit of general washroom talk
anyway
i go into the washroom just now and give myself a quick look at the mirror to take in the view of my dashing self, and fix the hair a bit
as i turn to one stall a colleague comes in
and we stare into each others eyes like deer in headlight
so i say to him, you look a little out of it today, which stall do you prefer? to break the ice
i talk to him often outside the washroom but this was our first time double teaming it
he confesses he does have a preference, so i being the gentleman that i am, ask him to proceed before me and i say okay well we gonna let this place have it!
and he rushes inside his stall and he screams it's a tag team and makes a high pitch laugh
he continues, o this place is gonna be a gas chamber, and breaks into laughter again
i am already in the other stall and as dragon is dangling in the cold, white, stoic room, he says "you know it's just the drive that kills me"
i grow unsure of what to say or do because i just heard his zipper and pants drop
and i say in befuddlement o ya well at least it's not gonna rain...
people from los angeles hate driving in the rain, i don't blame them, everyone drives like a maniac here, and it's been raining on and off, so i try to show a little compassion
and then he continues to talk about the weather and how there's rain in the forecast this weekend, all the while making grunts and pushing sounds
i urge dragon to empty itself out by swinging it a little, as if it had a mind of its own, which is foolish i know, and my visage distorts into a messy puzzle
o i see, is all i can muster
and there is a strange silence for a few seconds, then a grunt, and then the sound of a heavy, dense ball landing deep in water
never had i been so happy about running dry
but he kept evacuating his army out into the sea
and he continues hey have you watched the return to macon county?
i'm shaking off clean and i say making?
-the return of MACON county
oh the return of MAKE-UN county, no
-well you know it's a car movie, i know you're not really into that
i'm done and out the stall and say well you never know
another silence for a few seconds as i do my hygienic ritual
and then my parting words:
well i will leave you to it coach
― F# A# (∞), Thursday, 15 March 2018 18:27 (six years ago) link
xp I discovered a while ago that the cubicle doors at my work are easy to unlock from the outside. luckily I feel like I do not work with anyone who would do such a thing and I'm usually paranoid enough to make sure nothing would be visible by default anyway, but still not ideal
(the lock indicator was in a halfway position and I'd already checked the cubicle was empty but for some reason decided to push the outside of the lock gently with my finger, and in fact the entire lock could move all the way from locked to open and back by swiping the outside vacancy indicator)
current peeve: the sanitary bin is taller than the toilet seat and barely an inch away from it so if you are a larger lady you have to arrange yourself quite carefully on the seat to avoid the bin touching your bare thigh
I keep thinking about complaining about this and then thinking of the horror of writing to the facilities guy to say "hello, here is how fat I am, now think about my bare thighs. signed, a fatty"
― a passing spacecadet, Thursday, 15 March 2018 22:10 (six years ago) link
one year passes...
three years pass...