Toilet Humor

Some people have a fear of going to the bathroom in a public place. I am not one of those people. This is mostly because I go to the bathroom a lot and, seriously, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

The bathroom in my office building is hot as the Sahara, crawling with 5-inch-long cockroaches (this is not hyperbole, either - ask my colleagues), and has crumbling asbestos tiles on the ceiling.

OK, I can't prove the asbestos part, but I'd not be surprised if I showed up for work tomorrow and the whole building had been condemned.

On my 52nd ounce of water so far today, I had to take a mean piss. So I grabbed my keys and headed out to the bathroom. I let myself in, peeked cautiously around the corner for unwelcome roaches, and checked the stalls for other people, because, I'm sorry, but I had to pass a little gas, too. And I'm a considerate bathroom user.

Anyhow, I went into my normal stall - and by that I mean the only stall in which I have never seen a roach and that doesn't have a missing asbestos tile above it - and locked myself in to take care of things.

My usual stall might be roach free, but unfortunately in order not to deal with roaches, I have to deal with a wonky lock. I mean, the door locks, but you have to make love to it a little bit first, and even then if you pull or push the door hard enough, the door will swing open even if you don't turn the thingie (I have no better word, sorry; it's not really a knob, but you know what I'm talking about) to unlock it. The door and the lock just don't quite line up right. Kind of like how the stars were clearly not lining up right for me today.

And for those of you who aren't very good at picking up literary clues, this lock description is called foreshadowing and it will be important later.

Anyhow, I manage to use this toilet no fewer than six times a day (I told you I go a lot) and it stays locked well enough, as long as no one goes tugging on it, which no one usually does. Because, who in their right mind would tug on a closed bathroom stall door?

Anywho, I took my pee and passed my gas and was about to wipe (sorry for getting so personal) when someone entered the bathroom. As it turns out, it was the cleaning lady. The same cleaning lady, might I add, who has been cleaning this bathroom for at least the past two years and probably much longer than that.

I decided I'd stomp my feet just to give her fair warning I was in there, because usually she'll leave and come back if someone's doing their business.

STOMP STOMP!

I commenced wiping and I heard her checking the other stalls instead of leaving, which I thought was odd.

STOMP STOMP STOMP!

I figured this would adequately alert her to my semi-naked presence.

I don't remember much after that.

Because the next thing I know, she's yanking on the door to my stall and I froze. I could see the lock giving way, but there was nothing I could do about it. The door was too far away for me to reach it.

I don't know if I called out to warn her of what she was about to do. It was like one of these terrifying dreams where, try as you might, you just can't scream for help.

On one particularly forceful yank, the door to my stall swung open and there I was, snatch to face with the cleaning lady.

"EEEEEEEEEEK!!!!!!!!"

I think that's the exact noise that escaped me.

I guess it was lucky I had shaved over the weekend? I did that thing you see in movies when a person suddenly finds his towel fell off unexpectedly and I pulled my knees up and crossed my arms in front of me to try to reclaim my modesty. It truly was cinematic, and I can only hope that it was captured by security camera somewhere.

"OH GOOD LORD," said the cleaning lady, apparently stuck by "car-wreck syndrome" because she just kept staring at me, even though she should have wanted to look away.

Let me reiterate that she should have looked away, but she just stood there gape-mouthed, staring at my partially naked junk.

She did eventually pull herself together and made unintelligible mumblings while she tried to close and lock the door, but of course it didn't close or lock because, as I said, it doesn't line up right unless you fiddle with it.

It is my own opinion that the cleaning lady should have known about the wonky lock after a minimum of two years cleaning that bathroom, but who can say for sure? I'm certainly not going to seek her out and ask her.

Then she said, "You should lock the door!"

And I thought to myself, "Oh no you didn't! We're gonna' make this my fault? Are we? Oh I do. not. think. we. are."

But I actually said, "I should lock the door? Really? I did lock the door! Maybe you shouldn't yank open a closed bathroom stall door when someone is stomping their feet to warn you they're in there."

And it was at that moment I noticed the tell-tale white wires leading from her face to the tiny silver iPod clipped to her belt.

And right here I have to ask, how come the cleaning lady has an iPod and I still don't? I guess that part is my own fault.

Anyhow, she's all, "Oh CRAP. I didn't hear you!"

And I was like, "Well, uh, can you at least TURN AROUND, please?"

And so she did me one better and fled the bathroom to leave me in peace. Or as much peace as you can be left in after someone just violated you by throwing open the door to your bathroom stall while you were taking a whiz.

I just sat there at first, stall door wide open, stunned from exposure, taking in what had just transpired.

Eventually, though, I pulled up my pants and my dignity and headed over to the sink to wash my embarrassment down the drain.

That security video better not end up on the internet: pilarrrgh@gmail.com