November 6, 2008
Let’s speak in hypotheticals for a second.
Suppose you were the guy at the office who was anything but bashful about his feelings about the grossitudiness of the bathroom and his co-workers’ general lack of proper bathroom etiquette.
Now suppose you’re in the bathroom, the big stall, and you’ve got your nice Charmin roll of toilet paper you brought from home. You set it up on top of the giant cheesewheel super bondo tp dispenser.
Except, as you stand up and turn around, your gigantic clumsy elbow brushes the stashed super roll of Charmin, knocking it into the toilet.
Yup. INTO THE TOILET!
Two options here:
First option, RUN. FAST. Except, you’re the one who rails on the masses for not cleaning up after themselves, for not plunging, for not everything.
Flight is not an option.
Second option, fish the matted, soaking mess out of toilet somehow and get it to the trash can and LEAVE NO TRACE THAT I WAS EVER THERE.
I’m still washing my hands.