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2007-06-26 - 11:46 a.m.

Oh Friends...

I have something vile to report. Something really yucky. Something that made me go off much like I went off at the chinese restaurant when my sister ripped into some rotten crablegs. If you missed that entry, you can catch it at the following link:
The Cran-nag Fiasco

As you may recall, Gentle Reader, I used to find a lot of dreadful things in the restrooms at a certain medical facility I worked at. There are many stories of poo, pubes, and rivers of pee released by impaired patients, or maybe covert co-workers... at any rate the poo stories kind of ended when I stopped working in the hospital full time and started on a consulting basis.

Well, here I am in week 2 or 3 of my new 9 to 5 at a hospital and I experienced a blog worthy bathroom event yesterday. I was too traumatized to write it then, but I shall sully forth like the trouper I am deep down inside, where it counts.

I eat ice all day long, like a crazy anemic ice chewing machine. This causes me to frequently run out of my office in an all fired hurry to get in the ladies room. Yesterday, I had been holding it as long as possible, so I was in no mood to casually stand around waiting for Grizelda to get done with her weekly constitutional so I could avoid a bladder rupture. I went for the men's room.

The Dreaded Men's Room.

Why is it always dirtier than the ladies room?? Why is the floor and seat always wet? Poor aim? Fuckitall attitudes?? I don't know. But each and every time I have to resort to the men's room, I scrub and dry everything and if the floor is wet, I throw down paper towels over the muck. I almost always throw the paper towels in the trash afterwards, and then boil my hands.

This day, I went about getting my paper towels to scrub down the toilet seat. When I leaned over, ladies and gentlemen, I saw what appeared to be

Wait. I can't yet.

Ok, I'm ready.... there was a puddle of spooge on the floor. I kid you not. A clearish, whitish, slimyish PUDDLE right at the base of the toilet where some depraved flounder whacker let it fly. Spooge, people. Spooge.


This is how I react to something shocking. I am normally rather quiet and calm, however, when my freak out trigger gets tripped, I go buck wild. So I uvulated about the heinous problem in the men's room until I sort of returned to my senses. Then I was afraid to open the door, because I was, afterall, in the men's room. I didn't want to be seen. Especially by the spooge depositor.

Thoughts were racing through my head about who I hoped it was not... the HR man who is WAY too nice to me... yuck... God, don't let it be the big boss... who, who, who... would leave a pile of spooge on the bathroom floor???


Makes you really think about what all you can catch from a toilet seat!!!!

So, I threw down paper towels all over the offending sight and this time, I just left it there. I wasn't about to touch it. I wonder what the lady in the ladies room thought about the racket I was making in there.

You NEVER KNOW what you are carrying out of a bathroom on your SHOES people!! I'm forever changed.

spring - fall

15 This comments thingy doesn't work now because I let my paid membership lapse.

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