the women's restroom at work

there are many different kinds and styles of toilets and the women's restroom at work is apparently hoping to represent. ok, it only has three different styles, but there are only six stalls, so it seems a bit silly. one of the stalls is wheelchair accessible, the others not. one of the toilets requires you to lift the flush handle after you've flushed so that it won't keep running. most of the others, you have to hold the handle down until everything has washed away. although there are signs asking folks to lift or hold the handle, it is a rare occasion to walk into a stall with a toilet that is either not running or not full of...stuff. perhaps we need better signs, like these from japan and malaysia.

why, why penny, are you talking about toilets?! i've wanted to write about the women's restroom for quite a while as so many interesting things happen in there. the toilets are the tip of the lavatory iceberg.

the business that leases the other side of our building employs folks to clean the restrooms. these folks are in the restroom 'cleaning' just about every time i go in there. you would think the restroom would be spotless with all this attention, but you would think wrong. i just try not to touch anything.

another joy of using this restroom is the woman who comes in to hack up a lung every 15 minutes. it sounds like she's trying to get a hairball out and then she clears her throat with her mouth open and spits the resulting grossness into the sink. in.to.the.sink. i suppose it's a good place for her to do that since every time i hear it, i want to vomit and what better place to vomit than in the restroom? the best part is that she doesn't wash away what she has spat so if you are unfortunate enough to wash your hands in that sink...again, it's good there are vomit receptacles near by.

i am very grateful to have a working restroom at work, but it is really no wonder that when i have the choice to use the women's restroom at work or wait until i get home, i choose to wait. wouldn't you?