I work in an unusual workplace. Not only do I essentially sell grass for a living, the building where my office is located, is funky.
I present Exhibit Number One, the toilet cubicle that I use everyday:
Not only are there two receptacles for feminine hygiene products in front of the toilet, there is also one beside the toilet.
This brings the sum total of receptacles for feminine hygiene products in a three feet by four feet square area to three. You can barely close the door due to the number of big-ass boxes in the place. And in case you were wondering, there is one more cubicle but there are also two of the receptacles in it and I’m guessing they gave up on a third because it wouldn’t fit.
That’s two toilets and five boxes !!! Five !!! How many feminine hygiene products does one person need to use??
If it may please the court, I would also like to present Exhibit Number Two, also from the toilet:
I’m not even limber enough to try this.
Who does this funky animal shit?
Now, I have to admit that I have seen footprints on the toilet seat. At the time I thought it was someone standing on it to change the lightbulb overhead. It never dawned on me that squatting over the toilet was something people did.
But then again, I never thought wiping your bum with half a roll of toilet paper was something people did either, until one day I was in the cubicle next door and heard the person reach for the paper. What followed was approximately one minute of unrolling the toilet roll and I assume some rather thorough winding around of one’s hand with said paper (unless of course she was creating her own roll and putting it into her purse for later…)
I have heard though that a lot of girls claim that going to the toilet is so icky that they can’t stand not using large amounts of toilet paper. Personally, I’ve discovered that my experiences with drinking piss and ass-to-mouth over the years have removed any squeamish feelings I have about toilet stuff.
So with that, I rest my case. I work in a weird-ass place.