So, obviously, I’m a female and a classy, sophisticated member of an evolved species, so I don’t do it, but the subject came up; so here it goes. My apologies.
I work for a company that is growing way faster than it anticipated. In fact, it is growing so fast that some newer employees do not even have desks. One of the conference rooms has been temporarily transformed into a workspace, and about eight people share the conference table in a fishbowl-like glass room. More office space is currently being conquered, but in the meantime we all have to endure some pretty crowded quarters.
A prime example of this would be the fact that I am never the only person in the ladies’ room. There are only three stalls, and they are nearly always full. This creates an awkward moment when I have to stand idly waiting, slowly realizing that the smell and the silence of the room (no one is grabbing for the TP yet) indicate that at least two out of the three stall-dwellers are dropping their respective deuces as I try not to be in the way of the girl who is washing her hands, pray I don’t get smacked by the door if someone else comes in, and pretend I can’t see right through the crack of the first stall.
Any time I’m in the ladies’ room alone is a time for celebration, even if I’m only there to look in the mirror or wash my hands. It’s such a glorious occasion that it makes me want to save up my pee and claim every throne to be mine – like my dog used to do with bushes on a ten foot walk.
Now, I’m not one to shit where I eat, or work where I shit, or whatever, but I am surprised by the sheer number of females who partake. I have to admit, it would be nice to know that I was being paid to drop the kids off at the pool; it would take “stickin’ it to the man” to a whole new level of satisfaction. Still, the thought of having to commit such a heinous act (haha, it sounds like anus) in the middle of that small and crowded, sorry excuse for a female latrine, makes me think I’d rather make like Finch in American Pie and just go home, if the situation presented itself.
So, I know that I still haven’t gotten to the point here (and I thank you for sticking around when the topic is so… shitty); allow me to transition into the point of discussion that was brought about the other day while the husband and I were walking home:
My job would be a terrible place to be working when someone has to… you know… poop. BUT, I have a theory that there are some professions out there that are FAR worse off.
Public transportation driver.
I have a theory that every time the L train goes “express” and kicks everyone off, it’s because the driver’s got to drop off a brown package, and might not make it to the station in time to deliver.
Race Car Driver
I’d bet a nearly worthless American dollar bill that a good portion of accidents in NASCAR have been caused by a driver getting the shitty shakes.
This guy is IN YOUR HOUSE. He's fixing some plumbing issues, which may have been caused by this very same situation (but by someone who owns the toilet in turmoil), and can’t contain himself. It’s one thing to clog your own toilet… but when you’re in someone else’s house it becomes Harry in Mary Swanson’s bathroom all over again. Awkwardness ensues… turning on a faucet, over flushing, coughing, ANYTHING to make it sound like you’re not dropping a deuce in a stranger’s john. What are your other options, though? Pinch your cheeks and drive to a Micky D’s to use a public restroom like a peasant, when this person has such soft yet durable Charmin? Not gonna happen.
There are also professions that seem like they would be terrible, but really wouldn’t be so bad… as long as you’re into finishing the rest of your shift in your own feces.
Professional football player
These dick holes wear diapers! They are grown-ass human beings (but not so grown that society deems diaper-donning normal again), and they willingly strap on the Huggies before they punch their time cards. What a bunch of lazy, disgusting, rich mother fuckers.