There is an Uncle Ted with OCD using my restroom at work as a Safe Haven.
The other day, I had several meetings scheduled and I needed to take a dump. I'm much more patient and less cranky in meetings if my bowels are clear. Aren't you?
But every time I tried to take care of business, the 2-hole crapper was full. All morning long. Shareholder value probably dropped a couple of percentage points due to my inability to focus on the task at hand because I was distracted by the nefarious rumblings of my nether regions.
Finally, shortly after lunch, I get a clear shot! I mount my customary throne in the spacious and luxurious handicapped stall (it's O.K., we ain't got no cripples on my floor so nobody cares). No sooner than I get "situated" but here comes somebody else who immediately plops his ass down in the stall next to mine.
Now, customarily, it is not unusual for the new arrival in this type of situation to assume that the other person is further along in his "business" and they may decide to wait until the incumbent has finished up and exited the facility before really cutting loose. It's common courtesy, really.
I wasn't having any of that shit. I'd been waiting for this stall all fucking day. No way I was going to exit prematurely out of "protocol". I didn't have any meetings for the next hour or so. I'm waiting this fucker out. The war is ON!
So I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.
We're talking a good 10-15 minutes. There is NO activity from the other side. Nada. Zip. Complete silence. I thought that was very strange.
Then, finally, there is a big long pull on the toilet paper roll. YESSSS! I WON! PUSSY! Get the fuck out of here and let the champion get his stink on!
But then, there was more silence. Nothing for probably another 2-3 minutes.
Then, another long pull on the TP. Followed by another 2-3 minutes of nothingness.
This pattern kept repeating itself at least half a dozen times. Maybe more. It was surreal.
What in the fuck was he doing over there? Hell the fucking automatic toilet gave him at least half a dozen "courtesy flushes" because it thought he was done too!
And the thing is, this wasn't the first time I had been in the stall next to this asshat. I recognized the pattern of behavior! The first time I just figured maybe the guy ate some bad fish tacos and was having issues.
But this time I recognized a repeat offender! So I totally breached bathroom etiquette. I glanced at the floor of his stall and saw the company ID clipped to his pants and got his name.
Sly McShitterstein. (do I really need to put a disclaimer here...I didn't think so.)
After apparently using up every sheet of TP in his stall in the most bizarre manner imaginable, he finally stands up and puts himself back together. But just pulling up his fucking pants, tucking shit in and exiting the stall takes another 2-3 minutes.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE, FREAK?!?
He finally leaves, I win, and I finish my business. By this time I've been in the shitter what, 3 hours? Sure as fuck seems that way.
I head back to my desk. First stop...Company Directory!
I find McShitterstein and guess what...he works in Information Technology.
Dum dum duuummmmm! That's where they keep the freaks with interpersonal issues. Why am I not surprised?
So I pull up the picture from his HR ID. Not a face I recognize. I've been on my floor for over 3 years. This guy has not been in a meeting with anybody on my floor, ever.
He is making a special point of coming to my hood, on my time, to take his freaky little OCD IT shits (that only seem to consume TP and toilet water without producing any actual shit).
And there ain't a goddamn thing I can do about it!
I can't pound on the stall wall and yell "Yo! OCD IT Freak! Take it somewhere else! Normal people here gotta shit!"
That could be appraisal affecting.
I can't confront him publicly, because then I would be outed as having breached the security of the stall wall by glancing at his ID.
So what can I do? I can't do nuthin. At least nuthin that don't involve a car battery, some copper wire and a remote control.
But again, that could be appraisal affecting.
About the only option I have is embarking on a "War Against OCD IT Freaks" diet.
Big huge bowls of refried beans, asparagus, raw vidalia onions eaten like apples, undercooked salmon, corn on the cob, jalepenos, store brand generic hot dogs, 7-11 microwave burritos all washed down by the cheapest beer and bourbon I can find.
Bowel Movement of Mass Destruction.
The Shit Bomb.
We're talking a lot of collateral damage. Innocent civilians. Coworkers. Contractors. Vendors. Salespeople. Possibly even other people sharing our elevator shaft. It could be that bad.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that.
BTW - While searching for images for this post, I found this idea which is possibly the greatest travel accessory invention EVER!
Both educational and convenient.