You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
The Work Place Bathroom.
It’s a fermenting hell on Earth.
There is an invisible force, so pungent, so noxious, the EPA should quarantine it.
This smell is a viscous stew of foul decaying death. It is 5 parts skunk, 3 parts rotting chicken, one part raw ass.
When I feel that swollen, filling to the brim moment, the one that says “time to go” I wince. I would rather soil myself, or fill up a pair of adult Depends.
The 50 yard walk down the hall is filled with anxious tension.
I dread it because it is usually an aromatic assault on my sinuses. Sometimes I can feel the stink before I even get to the door. Some times the stench is so pungent, it has eaten through the door, and infiltrated the hallway like a CIA agent on a black op.
How can a smell get through a wooden door? Stink molecules are microscopic. But somehow, like the acidic saliva that drips out of Alien, melting through metallic floors, the smell permeates the hall.
Then you enter and it’s like the nuclear fog that was once Chernobyl. There should be radiation beacons chiming, spinning red, to warn all those to enter to don their protective suits.
It is ghastly, ghoulish, unfathomable!
Your eyes water as if you are taking bong hits of a raw onion.
Half the time I exit the bathroom, feeling nauseas as if i have the stomach flu, mouth to lips, trying not to vomit the contents of my stomach onto the floor.
Half the time, the smell is so horrific, I go upstairs to another restroom where the environment is passable as air.
But down stairs, it is a crime scene. I check the stalls to see if there is a fermenting corpse.
What on Earth has this person eaten that can cause a grown man to cry while trying to pee?
Is he consuming Radish and skunk sandwiches? Is he eating fermenting possum and 30 weight motor oil?
My God someone get this guy a priest?
This man needs a dietary exorcism. May the power of Christ compel you.
I am not the only one to dread this. We often signal one another that is not tolerable and they should wait to relieve themselves or go to the Sonic across the street if they really have to go.
To the person who is assaulting my olfactory senses with a constant, acidic punch to the nose, I implore you to use a port-a-john outside. I ask you kindly to strap a plastic sack to your junk and relieve yourself like an astronaut in orbit. If you don’t, I may need to call the local police, or the fire department’s haz mat unit.
Please gargle with Clorox or douche with daffodils. Shove air freshener in your boxers to start your day. But as a favor to your co workers who have to go and don’t want to use the dumpster, do something positive for us all and eat healthier.
and that is crazy.™