Can We Call It A Ladies Room?

OK.  I’m going there.  I’ve been keeping note of things I see happen in the public restroom located in our building and I just can’t hold back any longer.  The Interwebz have got to know my thoughts on this.  So bear with me.  Or come back tomorrow.  It might be TMI for ya.

The Setting: I work in an office that is one of many in a building.  We do not dominate the floor (as we’re on level one… or two if you count the basement) so we do not have our own restroom.  This is a tragedy and a blessing.  But since we do not have our own restroom, we use the building’s public restroom right down the hall.  It’s convenient.  But I’ve began to notice certain things about the ladies room.  Things that just rub me the wrong way.

The Socially Handicapped

I’ve said it a 100 times and I’ll say it again – the bathroom is not a playground.  Or a phone booth.  So why do women [who I know don’t work on this floor] have private conversations in the restroom?  Ladies have sat down on the “bench” to chat, have stood and blocked the doorway to bend another’s ear and I don’t get it.  Why would you a) want to sit in a room that filled with disturbing sounds and smells to whine to a co-worker and b) risk getting caught by the person you’re gossiping about.  It makes no sense.

The cell phone conversations are a whole different thing.  And becoming more and more common.  I understand that people are busy and multitasking is a handy thing to do but yuck!  Every time I hear someone talking on their phone, I flush the toilet.  I enjoy blowing their cover.  But one lady stands at the sink with her phone on speaker.  And leaves it on speaker as I flush.  Um… huh?  Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a chair or outside?  Again, confused.  So confused.

The Hoarder

There is a locker room downstairs in the building’s gym.  But the restroom is transformed some days with make-up and curling irons spread out on the vanity.  These ladies are getting ready at work.  What?  My advice: do this at home.  You look like a brazen hussy who shacked up last night and is doing some “last minute” freshening before clocking in.  I said it.  Brazen hussy.  Having your speaker phone on doesn’t help the situation.

The Stall Perferrer

I once read in Seventeen or YM or some teenage magazine long ago that most women prefer the last stall – so the first is usually the cleanest.  Since this bit of knowledge has been with me, I’ve always opted for stall numero uno.  The thing that irks me is that this stall is almost always dirty.  I’m guessing other people read that article too.  But I don’t know why they can’t clean up after themselves.  We’re all adults, right?

The Scaredy Cat

You’ve heard the phrase “hover or cover” I’m sure.  I’m here to tell you that you should just cover.  And then dispose of the cover.  Because I’m not particularly pleased to see tissue paper that’s touched another person’s butt just hanging out on a toilet.  Ew.  Just don’t hover – I know you’re the one messing up stall numero uno.

The Jack Haley

Jack Haley is noted as one of the worst NBA players of all times.  You know where I’m going with this so I’ll leave out the details.  I’m pretty sure the custodial services don’t do the happy dance when they see horrific stalls.  If your stomach is that upset, you should consider going home.  Blech.

The Cover Ups

What is up with that smelly shit people spray in the air?  Your crap doesn’t smell like country apple so quit trying to make believe it does.  Instead, flush.  That might even help out the Jack Haley folks.  Maybe this fru-fru stuff is the reason why womens congregate in the bathroom to chitchat.  Well, it’s a theory.

The Dumpers

There are women who only use the public restroom on this floor (sadly, the only relieving station I occupy) to go number two.  I see you shuffle from the elevator to the restroom and back to the elevator.  I hate you.  And your country apple poo.

The Grabber

Everything is hands-free except the paper towel dispenser [which really should have been the first automated].  And there are two women who I’ve seen multiple times grab their towels before they wash their hands.  This is not the process we were taught in kindergarten!  These ladies put their icky hands all over the get-your-paper-towel lever.  I glare at them.  And walk to the other dispenser to make a statement.

The Group Poop

My coined phrase for when everyone and their sister has come to the restroom to make a deposit.  This is everything I hate about this restroom: bad smells, bad sounds, country apple wafting around, stall numero uno isn’t available and someone is always on the phone.  Once a Group Poop has been identified, I slowly back out the door and tell myself I can wait 30 minutes.

The Trustful Ones

Like I said, there’s a “bench”.  I thought it was a baby changing station but I could be wrong – it’s happened before.  But women use it as a bench.  To sit and talk.  Or throw their bags on.  You heard right,  they leave their personal belongings (purses, wallets, ID cards, briefcases) by the door, unattended…. could be picked up and carted off by strangers.  But they still manage to take their phones to the stall with them.  Yep, priorities are in line.


~ by shutterboo on May 11, 2010.

25 Responses to “Can We Call It A Ladies Room?”

  1. But the restroom is transformed some days with make-up and curling irons spread out on the vanity. These ladies are getting ready at work. What? My advice: do this at home.

    They cannot do that. Getting ready at work allows them to arrive and be present at work at 8.

  2. pics or it didn’t happen

  3. Best. Post. Ever.
    Thanks for the laughs! I needed it today.

  4. This was AWESOME! I totally agree… and LOVED the laugh!
    And, what about the sticky floor? WTH? No idea and yet women STILL leave their purses on the FLOOR beside the PUBLIC CRAPPER! EW!

  5. It makes you wonder…

    We had an issue come to light a year or so ago. I don’t actually recall how it became known. We have locker rooms connected to a small gym at our department- the women’s and men’s bathrooms are connected and the doors to the bathrooms are along the main hall on the first floor. Directly across from the women’s bathroom door is the Sergeant’s office. Apparently, the female clerical staff didn’t like to be seen going into the women’s room for #2 trips because “the sergeant might notice how long they took” so they’d go to the public restroom located in the lobby.

    Like a guy is in his office thinking about how long “Sally” is taking in the bathroom?

    Women are so weird!!!

    • That has to be the oddest thing to think of when you need to use the restroom. It takes as long as it takes. Hell, I know men that deliberately spend more time in the crapper because “they’re getting paid for it.”

  6. I cannot TELL you how much Living Dilbert LOVES this post! Hilarious…going to send it to all my book club friends because this usually (somehow) ends up being a topic!

  7. Boo, my favorite is the lack of I don’t know what with the people who walk into rest rooms at work with newspapers and magazines. I realize that’s a crazy run on sentence but let me just say that when I see a Principal headed to the men’s room with a copy of the WSJ, I’m embarrassed for him.

  8. Yeah but it’s been something like 10 years and I still can’t erase the image of that guy, on the loo, with the paper out of my mind. I’ve been scarred permanently…do ya think I can collect disability insurance for that trauma?

  9. I’d like to add The Insufficient Flusher. Whether it’s excess poo or just the 12 pounds of toilet paper you used, can you stick around to make sure it all goes down? Please?

  10. We’ve had this discussion before. I think you know my thoughts on what we here in the Federal building call the “bathroom bandits”. Even being called out by a pregnant woman does not shame them. Once I went into a bathroom and a lady exited my prefered stall, was clearly a hoverer, and sprinkled when she tinkled without being a sweetie and wiping the seatie (even worse – our building provides the toilet seat covers. No excuse for hovering). The other 2 stalls had been bombed by Jack Haleys so there was no usable toilet. I pointed out that she might have missed a little something and she yelled at me! At me! And then left without even glancing at her golden shower mess. Poor pregnant lady who now has to travel all the way down to the next floor to find a toilet that is usable. *le sigh*

  11. Wait, there is talking in ladies rooms? In ours, there is a strict no talking policy from entry until the water is running in the sink.

    This is great stuff!

  12. […] I was honestly excited and looking forward to today… until this morning.  I think because “today’s the day” and other news coming over the interweb waves have sent my stomach into a hizzy.  My self-confidence and any hope of “cool” I had were flushed down the toilet [as I overheard wonderful conversation about wood flooring from two stalls down]. […]

  13. I work with all men….there are 4 of us ladies and 40 men. Usually things go great, a whole lot less drama and often the eye candy ain’t so bad. Our employee restrooms are on the second floor and to get upstairs you must walk through the office and by my desk. So everytime someone goes upstairs to do the deed I know exactly what they are doing. One day I go upstairs to use the Ladies room and it was occupied. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, the door opens and one of my MALE co-workers comes out. Confused I look over at the Mens room…vacant. Utterly confused I do my business and then come back to my cubby. I asked fellow female employee if she had ever seen a Man in the Ladies room and she said all the time. I was totally like…Geez Louise…use your own dang room. I finally broke down and asked my brother that works with me why all the men were using our room. “Better toilet paper. Y’all have the soft stuff.”

  14. This was amazing. Particularly the “dumpers” section.

    I used to work in a big law firm in Atlanta, and I’m just gonna say it: I saw an attorney pick her nose and wipe her boogie on the wall. She turned, saw me, and promptly went to grab a papertowel to clean up her mess.

    Hmph. Lawyers.

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