Those therapy bills are going to be expensive

Earlier today, I went to the ladies room here at work, and a woman was in a stall with her child speaking in Spanish.  I originally thought she was speaking to the child, but it became clear that she was on a cell phone. I sat. I peed. I got ready to wipe, when low and behold a small head popped under the door of my stall, followed by a small body, completely ignoring my cries of "No, don't come in here."  I had to open the door and shoo him out, which wasn't easy because our stalls are small and I am most certainly not.  Since I was in a wiping position (use your imagination) when he crawled in, I'm sure he got a glimpse of more than he bargained for.  I hope he doesn't have nightmares.

Also, I couldn't help but notice, as I gave the tyke a meaningful shove out the door and continued about my business, that the mother's conversation had stopped and that she was quiet.  Dead quiet.  Nary a peep.  Not even so much as a "get back over here" to her wayward child.  The silence continued as I washed my hands and left.  

It's been a WTF kind of day

Besides the usual things, like work related things, on three consecutive trips to the ladies the following things happened:

1. Two youngish women (late teens?) entered the ladies' room with me, one of them with a baby approximately 6-9 months old. When I was washing my hands, the woman with the baby was washing the baby's feet and legs in the sink. It hadn't appeared dirty when she entered and she had been at the sink the whole time.
2. All of the stalls were occupied except one, which was clogged. I had to pee desperately. I wiggled and danced, and nearly wet myself waiting for someone--ANYONE--to finish and get out of there. Instead, I waited while all three women repeated flushed the toilets in tandem. I counted 4 times before I said "screw it" and went in the clogged stall.
3. Someone vomited in the bathroom sink and didn't attempt to wash it down the drain.

This, added to the fact that I'm back on coffee after giving it up for Lent and am feeling particularly bitchy, has made me want to carry a weapon. I think I'll use the men's room on my way out tonight.

Things you'd do well to avoid

Somewhere on a Tuesday, 11:30am

me: I went to the ladies room and lost it, cussing like a sailor on shore leave, because a) the water was running in all three sinks, b) the first stall was out of order due to some a-hole blocking it up and the only free stall was also clogged.

The women in the other two stalls did not come out the whole time I was there.

Roy: Jesus

me: When I got back to my desk, I found a random black feather.

I'm not sure if it's related.

Roy: huh?

oh NO

THE BLACK DOWN FEATHER OF DISCORD AND MISFORTUNE!!!

me: Nooooooooooo

Roy: You've incurred the wrath.

me: better a wrath than a wraith

Roy: It's not as bad as the Kiss of Death, but far worse than the Noogie of Woe.

me: ah, I've had the woe noogies.

not fun.

Roy: Indeed.

Better than the Purple Nurple of General Malfeasance though.

Roy: I don't know where it ranks with the Indian Burn of Mixed Blessings, or the Tickle Fingers of Acrimonious Backhanded Compliments to/from Children and Strangers.

Way better than the Slingshot of Crotch-rot.

Roy: Then there is the Loogie of Good Fortune, which is a mixed blessing. On one hand, good fortune. On the other hand, you got Loogied.

Roy: Oh an let's not forget the Meat and Cheese Basket of Impending Schadenfreude

me: Wow, you've really outdone yourself.

Roy: Eh. I was hit by a Late Winter Icicle of Inspired Brilliance in Useless Skills

But seriously, the ladies room? It was too much. I believe I used the phrase "Get the *^%$ over it already" as I furiously slammed each faucet closed.

Ladies Room of Salvation

Co-worker Leslie was washing her hands alongside a woman from one of the other offices when the other woman said, "Lord Jesus, have mercy on my soul," out loud and continued to wash her hands.


What on earth had she done in that last stall that required such a declaration?

More Klassy stories from the Ladies Room

Pee Shy, you know, the employee from the law firm across the hall who runs water while she's doing her business, was in the ladies room when Amber, my co-worker, entered. We've recently shamed Pee Shy into only turning on one faucet, which is still ridiculous and wasteful, but I consider it an accomplishment. So, the water was running, Amber was minding her own business when she heard a phone ring. Pee Shy answered her phone--yes, while she's in a PUBLIC restroom--and said to the caller, "Why you callin' me? I told you I was going to take a sh*t." Oh yes, she actually said that. Amber does not lie.

Despite Amber's giggling (who wouldn't?) Pee Shy, who from now on will be called Poo Shy, proceeded to discuss confidential Law Firm business in a PUBLIC restroom while there is obviously another person within earshot. Then klassy with a K said to her caller, "Hold on," and proceeded to, um, shall we say, REALLY get down to the business at hand--while she's on the phone, people!! Where were these women raised? Seriously!!

Amber finished up quickly and made a hasty exit. I am still shaking my head.

Overheard In Stall Two

Girl One: Yeah, so I told him if he wants me to marry him he's got to stop cheating.
Girl Two: Do you think he will?
Girl One: Yeah. I told him he can have two more girls, but once we get married, that's it.
Girl Two: And you trust him?
Girl One: Yeah. Once we're married, you know.
Girl Two: But do you want to marry him? I mean, only be with him for the rest of your life?
Girl One: I think so. I really love him.
Girl Two: I don't even know you anymore.

[Girl One leaves her stall and washes hands.]

Girl Two: Can you turn the faucet on?

So, I was in the Ladies Room

(Isn't this how some of my best posts start?)

I walked into the ladies room and all three stalls on the left were occupied. I could hear the ladies from the law offices chatting back and forth. I could also see that the two right side stalls were open. As I was about to enter the first stall, I found a woman in there sitting fully clothed on the toilet seat--a seat that doesn't have a lid, mind you.
"Hello," I said, as I backed up and went to the one unoccupied stall.
One of the unseen women shouted to her friend, "Do you have the door open again?" To which the clothed squatter answered, "Yeah, but I pulled my pants up. Nothing's showing."

Oh. My. God. What is wrong with these women????? And there were three cell phones on the counter. Do you all take your cells to the bathroom? Because frankly, I'm in and out. I have no time to chat, nor do I have the inclination. That's just rude. (Unless I'm at home on the cordless phone in the middle of a marathon phone call with my sister or mom and have to pee really bad. But I don't flush until I hang up.)

Posted by Request

Last night at SnB, Jenna asked for an update on the ladies room. Bridget asked how Nacho was doing. So, without further ado, here are your updates.

Nacho Libre Rocks!
Nacho is back to his sweet goofy self, although his fins are not quite as spectacular as they were in the beginning. He's happy, though, as evidenced by his little Bubble Nest shown here.

He wags his tail when I walk by the tank and watches TV with me (he loves him some ANTM). And for some reason, this goofball is obsessed with the filter. He'll wiggle his head and half his body into the opening before I catch him and shout, "Get out of there." (yes, he listens to me)
All in all, using bottled water and a week of Betta Fix seemed to bring him back to health.


Ladies Room of Horrors
A report I was waiting on was late. I needed the report to put together packets for a meeting. It was 5:30 before I got the report (or later, I lost track) and I still had to number the pages, make copies, put booklets together, set up the conference room, etc. You can imagine the mood I was in when I visited the ladies room and found Baby Daddy Drama and one of her cohorts holding court. BDD was sitting on one end of the counter and her friend was sitting at the other end, with her feet up on the sinks. BDD called one of their other homegirls: "Bitch, why ain't you answering my %$@#* calls. I know you got caller ID." The two giggled incessantly. When I came out of the stall to wash my hands they looked at me as if to say, "Bitch, why you in our space." The friend was applying even more eyeliner to her already coated lids while BDD fiddled with her hair. If they had been smoking, I would have thought I was back in high school with Laurie Pastor feathering her hair and sighing, "I miss Ron."( her boyfriend who went to public school in New Jersey) I going to have to rename this the Ladies Room of Whores. [just to be clear, Laurie Pastor was a sweet girl, not at all like BDD and Company--she just hung out in the ladies room a lot at school]

Uncalled for

This morning, at 9:40am to be exact, I was on my way to Starbucks for a directors' meeting. I was stuck at a light at Union Avenue and 8th Street, when I this woman walked in front of my car tugging at her dress. If she hadn't tugged, I wouldn't have looked. But look I did, and what did I see? Oh, everything God gave her, that's what I saw. Yes, the "dress" was more like a shirt and tug as hard as she did, it did not cover her very large, cellulite-infested ass, nor her well-trimmed Hooha. At some point, she just stopped tugging and let it all hang out, much to the delight of the man behind me in the big red truck that nearly rammed my car. The red light lasted unusually long, so I had ample opportunity to view Commando Candy and her Carnal Treasure.

In other news, the freakshow that is our Ladies Room continues. Yesterday, I went pee before I got in the car to come home and while I was in my stall I heard the distinct sound of a cell phone camera with this recorded voice saying, "Say Cheese." I looked all around to make sure some Pervy McPerverson wasn't taking photos of me under or over the stall. Then, I realized it was another woman in the stall across from mine. Four or five times I heard, "Say Cheese." So, I have to ask the obvious--What the hell was she photographing? And, really, I don't think I want to know.

Scandal and exhaltation in the Ladies Room

Remember last Tuesday when I told you about Baby Daddy Drama having a meeting in the ladies room with her homies and one of them was crying? Well...(lean in close, I'm gonna dish) apparently the crying girl had a pregnancy scare. She and Baby Daddy Drama were in the ladies room today waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Much rejoicing ensued when the results were found to be negative.

Have a great holiday, everyone. I've already started the celebration.

I could not be more of a Gringo

I finally went to Rodeo Grill for lunch, and the menu is mostly in Spanish, with pictures for the rest of us. I thought I was safe ordering a #28 (Burrito combo) as I wouldn't have to fumble with my really bad Spanish skills. Then the girl behind the counter asked me things like "Pollo, Asada, Chorizo?" Um...."Steak?" (Asada, for future reference).
Then, inspired by Catherine and Frank and everyone else who's been blogging about the deliciousness of Tres Leches cake, I tried, oh so miserably, to order it. I can pronounce French like crazy, but I sounded like Peggy Hill trying to say "Tres Leches". I finally held up the counter display and pointed at the picture.

Then I hung my head in shame.

But the food was cheap and tasty and the cake--Boy Howdy--it was worth the embarrassment.

Ladies Room update: Baby Daddy Drama was in the Crazy Room this morning straightening her hair with a flat iron. Accompanying her were two friends, one of whom was crying. They were so loud you could hear them down the hall--or at the very least, in the men's room next door. M------, our temp, ventured in to pee (what a concept). Suddenly, Baby Daddy Drama looked at her phone and gasped. It was a text message---from her boss---who was standing out in the hall listening to them carrying on. BDD panicked and asked my co-worker to hold her flat iron so the boss didn't know she was in there doing her hair. So, as far as I know, the flat iron is still in our possession. I suggested holding it for ransom.

It's Tuesday. This is all I've got for you.

The Chuck Wagon is still parked on my street and I'm a little peeved. To whom does this thing belong? And, why is it taking up parking? Grrrr

Someone had an evaluation and is getting a raise.

The ladies room freaks have gotten weirder. Today, I was in the bathroom and thought I was alone because it was dead quiet in there. As I was washing my hands, I checked my hair in the mirror and noticed legs under the stall across from the sinks. The legs were not seated. They were standing legs. Standing-right-up-against-the-door legs. I suddenly got this very creepy feeling of being watched, so I rushed out of the bathroom. What the hell? What is wrong with the women across the hall? Why can't they just get in, pee or poo, and get back to work? Why are they so freakin' freaky about doing their business? Have they never read the book "Everybody poops"? Oh, that reminds me...

This story is totally second hand, but this guy I used to work with (Mac) worked at a book store (I think it was Crown). He was at the info desk when an old man with a familiar voice came up and said, "Pardon me, do you have "Everybody poops"? And the old man was Charleton Heston. The story is much funnier with Mac doing the voice, but go ahead and think of Moses saying "poop" and see if you don't get the giggles. Maybe it's just my 12 year old sense of humor.

Oh, Hal Fishman is spitting mad. Watch out in the front row.

All day long I've had "If I Only Had A Brain" playing in my head. At one point, I was freezing because of the mad A/C in my office and I walked into the break room shivering and singing, "brrr brrr brrr brr brr brrrr brr brrrrr..." to the tune of the aforementioned song. Co-workers backed away slowly.

Everyone should go out quick and pick up a bag of the Mystery Doritos X-13D. The idea is to taste the chips, then log on to the site and name the flavor. You can play a game to get clues as to the flavor. I won't tell you what I think because I don't want to ruin my chances of a winning a year's supply of Doritos. (and I wonder why I can't lose weight)

That's it. I'm outta here.

Ladies Room of Horror

Our new offices occupy half a floor of this building. The other half is law offices. There are no bathrooms in the suites, just one semi-public restroom in the hall for which we all have a key. And, folks, it's FAR from my office. I have done the wiggle-walk more than a few times. Anyway, I am here to tell you, our new neighbors are freaks!

Sometime in the first few weeks after we moved in, I was in the Ladies room along with two women from one of the other offices. One gal, who we'll call Baby Daddy Drama, was going on and on about the trouble she's having with the father of her child, a deadbeat dad who's sleeping around and claiming he's not the father, etc, etc (watch any Maury show for details). I'm all for sharing with your friends, but right there in front of a total stranger? Girl. Now, every time I go to pee, BDD is in there on her cell telling her business to everyone.

Then, a few days ago, A---- came back from the restroom with a quizzical look on her face. She explained that when she walked into the restroom, all three sinks were running full blast. Thinking some kid was playing, she turned them off. A voice from inside a stall cried out, "Please don't turn the sinks off!" A---- compromised by leaving one on. Apparently, the lady has shy bladder/bowel syndrome and doesn't want people to hear her peeing or pooping. Ohhhkayyy. Nice to meet you, PeeShy. By the way, we can still hear you.

Today, A------- came back from the restroom with the same quizzical look on her face. "There are shoes in the stall, but no feet," she said. I asked if she was sure the stall was occupied, and she said, yes, she could hear paper rustling, but there were no feet, just empty shoes. We came up with several scenarios, from sitting Indian-style to standing on the seat and squatting, but couldn't come up with a solid reason why a person would pee in that position. I guess the Invisible Woman works next door.

One day, Boss Lady was in there and someone in the last stall, who was stinking up the place if you know what I mean, was making gagging sounds like she couldn't stand the smell. Lady, it's your shit. If you can't stand the smell, who can? Here's to you, Mrs. Myshitdon'tstink.

Today, I encountered PeeShy for myself. Not only were all three sinks running, but they were on HOT. I turned two off and turned the last one to cold. There was no cry from the stall, so I guess she's used to us now.

It may be just the women, because I haven't heard any stories from the menfolk. Who would have thought that we would be the normal ones?