Wednesday, June 4, 2014


It's no secret that I have a fondness for all things related to bathroom behavior. Farts and poops are funny, you guys! If we aren't on the same page about that, you should probably just go.

Shit's about to get a little gross.

The women in my office building have deplorable lavatory etiquette. Like, explosive, keep the plumber on speed dial kind of crap (literally + figuratively). I'm not convinced that most of them don't gnaw on jalapenos all day and quench their thirst with pre-colonoscopy juice. Every day I have the esteemed pleasure of witnessing the aftermath of a Harry Dunne-like catastrophe. 

For months my annoyance has been building and now I'm making it my personal mission to shame every single one of them. Let's poo it:

The lady who mistakes her own ass for an elephant's and consequently uses an entire roll to wipe and consequently clogs the toilet and then I subsequently walk in and see a bowl full of poop and TP. It astounds me how many people are unfamiliar with the rule of courtesy flushing and/or never learned an appropriate square count to wipe with. I swear some of these ladies gather toilet paper like a magician pulling a never-ending handkerchief chain out of his sleeve. And if we're being 100% honest here, I usually monitor the toilet to ensure everything disappears safely before exiting. God forbid someone sees me depart a stall then enters only to be greeted by my leftovers.

The chick who needs to poop, but doesn't want anyone to hear her poop so she sits in the stall in perfect silence, but doesn't realize I can see her shoes. And unfortunately for her, I have a photographic shoe memory. Admittedly, I'm a bit of a jerk when it comes to this one. When I can tell someone else in the bathroom is waiting me out to drop a deuce, I will purposely take my time. And sometimes, when I feel a little extra cruel, I'll linger outside the bathroom just long enough to give the "I know what you did in there" look. Conversely, I tip my hat to the woman who isn't afraid to let loose, because not much will get me to scoot out of the bathroom faster than the impending stench of BM. 

The woman who is terrible at pretending to wash her hands. I mean, really. She turns the sink on for about three seconds and I definitely did not hear her pump any soap into her palms. Does she think she is fooling me? And who hurries in and out of the bathroom at work, anyway? Personally, I escape to the bathroom for a few guaranteed moments of silence and catch up on whatever phone game I happen to be obsessed with at the time. Ok fine. I don't mentally recite the ABCs while washing my hands and if I did, I'd probably only get to G, but whatever. I still make a point to go through the shortened routine. 

The nincompoop (I had to) who lines the seat with toilet paper, does her business, then leaves said toilet paper in her wake. Specifically, the one who leaves two perfect balls of TP on the front edges of the seat and at least three strips of streamers scattered about the floor. See example below.

Yes, I did go into the bathroom at work to recreate the scene. And, yes, there are a few faint skid marks if you look closely. They are not mine.


After she became a fifth time offender (and I mistakenly walked into her war zone on a rotten day), I decided to leave a note:
Dear TP Wads, 

I understand you are concerned with ass germs and therefore line the toilet seat with an absurd amount of toilet paper, but perhaps you might consider not being such a jerk by figuring out a way to dispose of said toilet paper. One thought I had was to kick it into the bowl, since clearly you won't want to sully your perfectly germ free hands. 

People around the office caught wind (yep) of my note and applauded me for saying what everyone had been thinking. I felt like a real hero sitting atop the hypothetical shoulders of my supporters. And you know what? It got better for a few good months. I loved those months. I could once again use my second favorite stall in the bathroom. Life was sweet. 

Just recently, though, it was brought to my attention that TP Wads is back at her old tricks and that's why I was provoked to write this post. 

She ruined it for everyone. 

And maybe it's just me, but I'm usually on my best sanitary behavior in public and am a little more lax at home. Feel free to back me up on this.


  1. Less is more. No need to waste a whole roll on one poop!! :] // ☼

    1. My thoughts exactly, Carmen. Loved your Lush product review!

  2. I applaud your blog about the clog. Our work bathrooms have automatic lights. What do you recommend we do when walking in, the light flickers on illuminating what was a pitch black bathroom, and find someone sitting silently frozen in the stall? Do you check on them? Ignore them? This happens frequently....

    1. I would hope your silent shitter would give some sign of life. Perhaps a fake cough or sniff. After considering this for a few minutes, I think I would probably do my thing then turn the light back off before exiting.

  3. It is standard practice for me to let out a loud cough whenever someone enters the bathroom where I am shitting. This haunched position is easily the most vulnerable for a man, leaned forward, sweaty, man parts dangling into the toilet. It is not a pleasant experience to be barreled in on by some hurried old man who then insists on making an eye contact apology. Those damn flimsy locks on the stalls. A little metal knob and a turn dial. Easily pushed through, and so I cough twice to be sure.