Pooping at the work place. Ah, one of my favorite topics of all. And like any blog post worth its salt, this one just sort of happened. Whatever I had planned to write about today has been pushed out of the way. Heh.
So here’s how it all went down.
My co-worker was on the phone and I’m the backup person to answer our two-line phone system. Light bulb! This is a perfect time to use the restroom and potentially miss a phone call or two.
I’m in there doing my business and reading a very interesting article about scuba diving and finding bottles. (But that’s another story.) But I wasn’t in there that long.
Those of you who work in large office buildings don’t know how lucky you are. Someone walks by and sees your cubicle or desk is empty and they can only guess. “Hey, where the hell is Bob?” He could be in the bathroom, but he could also be in a meeting, on a break, or at the mall next door enjoying a movie at the multiplex. (When I was working in cubicle culture this was a very common occurrence.)
In a small office, however, one thing is painfully clear. Everyone knows exactly where you went (bathroom), what you are doing, and exactly how long you’ve been in there. I hate that.
Anyway, I finish what I’m doing and then perform my post-poop ritual consisting of touching things in a certain sequence, freshening the air, washing my hands, opening the door, then finally sterilizing my hands so I don’t have to touch anything before getting back to my desk.
I step out in the hall. BOOM!
“I need your help. The customer is on the phone!!!!!!”
Geez! And you didn’t call 9-1-1 yet? Whiskey tango foxtrot! Yes, I truly enjoy pooping at the workplace.
Turned out that my co-worker was a PITA demon client, too. “It’s not showing me the link to adjust shipping!!!” Well, are you logged in? “No. Do I have one for this screen???” Yes, you do. I gave it to you already, can you remember?
I hear some furious typing and then, “Oh. Yeah. Mmmm. That worked.”