Working in an office isn’t fun. Sure you can toss a ping pong table in there, maybe a few TV’s, put some beer in the fridge for ‘happy hour’… but you’re still at work. You didn’t fool me. It’s kind of like putting chocolate on a banana. Yeah, that’s delicious for a banana but like, put chocolate on ice cream. Put chocolate on marshmallows. Put chocolate on things that are already delicious, not boring fruit. You. Deserve. Better.
That was a tangent but, speaking of chocolate, how long do you have to wait until you can poop at work? When work is bad I’ll go to the bathroom and stand at the urinal for like 3 minutes just to get away. It’s a safe haven. But pooping? I’ve been at my job for a month and I have never even considered it. As a disclaimer: I should say, I have physically trained my body to not need to poop when I’m away from my own home. I genuinely can’t recall a time all throughout elementary school, middle school, and high school that I pooped in the school bathrooms. I’d go on a weekend trip to a friend’s vacation home and legit go Friday night till Sunday afternoon without pooping or even THINKING about pooping. Even in MY OWN HOME, if I’m sitting on the couch on the first floor and feel the need, I’ll straight up walk to the second floor of my house to do my business. I need ultimate privacy.
I think a lot of this stems from a dark experience I had at a Red Robin when I was about 10 or 11 years old. I had just eaten, ya know, Red Robin, so I obviously had a weird bowel movement and sprinted for the bathroom. I get in there, take the handicap stall (the ‘First Class’ of public restrooms), and start going…when I hear a father-son duo walking in. You know when a wife sends the dad into the bathroom to help the kid pee? The dad has zero regard for the child. That kid could get dragged into the sewers by a loose crocodile poking it’s teeth through the toilet hole and the dad would be like “good job bud, make sure to shake it a few times before you put it back in”. BUT this little kid is done, washes his hands, the dads checking his phone, I’m having a panic-attack-induced-stomach-evacuation, when all of a sudden, the little kid WALKS UP to the little tiny crack in between the door and the stall wall and starts STARING AT ME. His father is scrolling through god knows what on his Blackberry (it was 2007), and this kid is just watching me defecate. THERE SHOULD BE NO SPACES IN BETWEEN BATHROOM DOORS AND BATHROOM WALLS. People at home on their laptops put pieces of tape over the webcam so that the most expert hackers who might happen to target their boring lives can’t watch them, like, “look at Tasty videos on Facebook”, MEANWHILE we leave 2 inches of a freaking PEEPHOLE available for any stranger to walk right up to and WATCH US POOP. It’s backwards land. (Also, more like POOPhole, amirite ladies?)Dammit, I keep going off on tangents. The real reason of this post is to emphasize that IF you have the mental capacity to relieve yourself of an intestinal burden in your office bathroom, you not only should want to, but you also HAVE A DUTY, to use every ounce, no, every ATOM of strength in your body, TO NOT MAKE NOISE.
I pee in my office maybe 6 times a day. There’s free waters in our fridge and I hammer those bad boys one after the other. I take sips when I’m bored, I’m trying to stay hydrated, and it’s free, so I’ll take as many as I want. In my many treks to the bathroom I usually see the sneakers under the stalls and the doors closed. Someone’s in there. That’s no big deal. When you gotta go you gotta go. But we all know pooping is gross. Yeah everyone does it; that doesn’t make it not gross. We all fart but if we’re in an interview we won’t just let one rip because “everyone does it”, we hold it in because it’s gross and know the interviewers would be like “who is this gassy weirdo who doesn’t have respect for us”. And that’s exactly what it is, a matter of respect. Out of respect for the other people in the bathroom, try not to let out explosive farts as you dump. Try not to belt out “AHHHHH” after every time you release a clench. As far as I’m concerned the bathroom should be treated like A Quiet Place. Every time you close that stall door you are John Freaking Krasinski. I want you farting in freaking SIGN LANGUAGE. Don’t even breathe heavily as you’re doing any of this.
I’m just here to take a quick piss and now I’ve got to think about which one of our sales guys os giving birth to a baby-sized pile of poop.
That’s the other thing, even though you don’t know who it is, that doesn’t mean you should just do whatever you want with no consequences. It’s not the purge. This bathroom stall isn’t your mask with “God” written in sloppy lettering over it allows you to commit crimes without anyone knowing your identity. This is real life pal. You can’t be doing that gross stuff without disturbing others in the bathroom. God help us all if you come out of the stall as I’m going to the sink to wash my hands. You won’t be known as “nice Jim from Engineering” anymore, you’ll be known as “farty Jimmy who sounds like a dying wild boar when he dookies”. So think about that next time when you’re just letting it all out behind the impenetrable fortress of stall walls.
Have I made my point clear? This is just gross. The action itself is nasty you don’t need sounds to accompany it. It’s like if the movie Grown Ups 2 had a soundtrack by Florida Georgia Line. Don’t take a bad visual and add bad sounds to it.
Was this post a cheap excuse to say poop a lot of times because it’s easily the funniest word in the English language? Maybe. Almost, definitely. But a loud poop, should not be A-LLOWED, around me, or any of my other public-restroom-a-phobes. So keep it down in there, as you drop the browns down in there.