One of my pet peeves--and hard as it may be to believe, I have many--involves the bathroom. (Or restroom, which is, I was advised by my not-quite-8-year-old son this morning, how one should always refer to a toileting facility that has no bathing mechanism. Pretentious little shit.)
The same child who found it necessary to correct my term usage this morning is a serious offender of my bathroom sensibilities. Regardless of his penchant for correct grammar, this is a child who can somehow smear all manner of human waste across an entire bathroom/restroom without even being within 30 feet of it. I've watched him pee, and it makes me want to break his kneecaps so he'll be forced to become a "sitter." Not that he's any less sloppy when seated. I won't disgust the sensitive with the details; I'll just say I handle his laundry with tongs and a HazMat suit.
Sadly, Mr. Messy is not even a close contender to the nasty fuckers I share office space with. I don't know who these people are, but I swear if I ever find out, I will be dunking their heads into the very toilets they desecrate on a daily basis for some well-deserved "swirlies."
It all boils down to one very simple premise--FLUSH THE FUCKING TOILET. This isn't difficult, people. See that little handle over there? Push It. Go ahead! It won't even hurt!
I, for one, am an over-flusher. I flush a minimum of three times on any given restroom trip. You may call this "OCD." I call it "I'm not going to be responsible for this toilet backing up and flooding all over the place." This practice was borne of necessity due to my equally over-zealous use of toilet tissue. You may also call this "OCD." I call it "when I get hit by a bus, there will be no skidmarks found in my underpants, thank you."
Let's also note a "courtesy flush" is called that for a reason. No one likes to walk into a restroom and smell what their idiot co-workers ate for dinner at the Indian curry restaurant last night.
Another plug for multi-flushing--the people who leave...evidence. Remnants, if you will. Which just causes me to have to flush another time (or two) because I can't bear the thought of my hind quarters hovering above that which you were too fucking lazy to get rid of. No one is going to fault you for flushing the toilet more than once. Don't let some tree-hugging hippie tell you otherwise. "If it's yellow, let it mellow" is all well and good as long as we're talking about mustard. Nothing else.
And while we're on the subject--please make sure you hit the toilet. I don't understand why this is a problem. Although I have a better idea, now that someone has clued me in to a practice some women engage in called "hovering." Really? How is this beneficial? I thought we'd established back in, oh, 1963, that you can't catch anything from a toilet seat? Unless, of course, your ass is covered in open sores, in which case you shouldn't be using a public toilet because you shouldn't be OUT in public, PERIOD. So stop doing this. Stop it right now. Because you're not protecting yourself from germies. You're just pissing all over the damned toilet seat.
And speaking of leaving a wet sloppy mess, what the hell is up with the sink? I'm glad you're washing your hands, but are you really? Or are you just giving your stupid little purse dog a bath in there and letting it shake all over the fucking vanity? Because that's what it looks like. Come to think of it, that's kind of what it smells like, too.
COME ON, LADIES. Start showing a little courtesy for your fellow public-restroom-users. You never know, the day may come when you show up for work nursing a wicked hangover and when the smell of your cube-neighbor's lunch sends you dry-heaving into the restroom, I'm sure you don't want to have to deal with "streaks" or pee on the seat.
I don't even want to think about men's restrooms. I hear they pee in a trough. And that conjures up some real vomit-inducing images, let me tell you.
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