review of the bathroom at work
April 15, 2008
I thought about taking pictures. But really, that would just be gross.
I work at a small software company in Salt Lake City, and we have about 30 employees. The company is a start up, and we’re right on the cusp of profitability, and always looking for more VC money. The powers that be are a bit tight with the purse strings, because we’re always trying to show good numbers to the board and prospective VC folks.
Unfortunately, that means our toilet paper sucks. Well, actually, the whole bathroom sucks, but the toilet paper is where the rubber meets the road. We have a urinal, a regular stall, and a handicap stall. Each stall has one of those gigantic, cheese wheel sized TP rolls.
As you may know, the usual problem with the cheese wheel TP roll is that you can never get more than one square at a time, because the weight of the roll overcomes the bond between squares. Our cheese wheel is different. The tensile strength between squares is such that you could swing from the TP hanging out the bottom, though you really don’t want to risk swinging into anything else nearby. But you have to brace yourself to tear off your portion.
Plus, the TP sucks ass. (Um, not literally.)
The best solution here is for one to use one’s private stash of toilet paper. Which I do. There are no bargains when it comes to your ass, I’ve found. I try to be discreet, but unapologetic. I’m not the one who should be sorry.
Would mentioning that there are always crumbs on the bathroom floor be part of a review of the bathroom, or of its patrons? CRUMBS! Does that not mean that someone is EATING in the bathroom? Let’s just move on.
Another problem with our bathroom is that nobody cleans it. I mean,we have a guy, I’ve heard, that comes by every night and “cleans.” But I’m pretty sure he only empties that trash cans (and then only if they’re overflowing).
You know that euphoric feeling you get when you go into a public restroom, and you see the lid in the UP position? Because you know that means nobody has used it since the cleaning people have worked their magic, right?
Yeah, forget that. If the lid is up in OUR bathroom, the only good option is to head straight for the 7 Eleven. Yup, it’s THAT bad. I’m talking debris, I’m talking smell, I’m talking . . . well, how bout I stop talking about that. I mean, there’s even a plunger sitting there, and the plunger is cracked, and, um, debris-laden. Seriously, call Haz Mat.
But there is a silver lining. Our paper towel dispenser has been broken ever since I started here. It was one of those with a big curved lever that you had to push repeatedly to get a paper towel out, and the return spring was missing, so you had to grasp the handle and push and pull it to get a towel. Most people object to grasping anything in a public bathroom.
Now we’ve got a newfangled, electronic paper towel dispenser. You wave your hand in front of the light, and you get a paper towel. It’s like magic.
Cuz, you know. That’s what we needed. That’s where you should put your money. In the paper towel dispenser. What would I do? I think I would have put a pile of paper towels next to the sink, and spent the money on a Haz Mat crew for the part of the bathroom where your actual ass meets an actual toilet. But that’s just me.