So yesterday, I’m in the loo and I see splash marks and a puddle on the floor of the stall next to mine (with a few splash drops that made it into my stall). I also see small, bare feet, so I assume it’s one of the kids who just got out of swim lessons at the sports complex in which my office is located.
Then the girl’s mom comes in and the girl says “mommy, I have a big problem.”
The mother goes off in what sounded like Farsi, but in English says “This is why you go when you have to go. You can’t just hold it forever.”
And as I rolled my jaw back up, I realized that this seriously just happened.
So the mother and her daughter have left the ladies room, and my colleague and I are washing our hands. We look at each other with an expression that could only be described as incredulous, but laughed it out and recounted what we gathered of the situation and if this was for real. In our disbelief, we wonder if the woman went out to find a cleaning person or maintenance, so my colleague goes out and asks at the front desk.
And the mother hadn’t said a damn thing.
EW EW EW EW EW GROSS!!!!
There are few things that I can think of more appalling. I mean, God, what kind of person/parent/civilized homo sapien does that?
Well, apparently she did, but who else?
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Also, while I’m on bathroom talk, I hate hate hate it when people talk on the phone in the bathroom.
Like seriously. You’re really okay with someone hearing you or someone else peeing? Maybe it’s because I have this residual Southern gentility thing chasing me around, but I find it gross/rude/just plain icky because God forbid you hear my body functions OR those of the people whose bodies I can’t control and may be more self conscious about them than myself.
And then, there are the people who go into the bathroom JUST to take a phone call. Like stepping outside for a moment isn’t the exact same distance or utilizing a quiet hallway isn’t secluded enough. Or these conversations are of such importance that they couldn’t happen via text message. You really need to seclude yourself in the confines of the ladies room. Where other people are also secluded and stuck hearing your side of last weekends bar hopping disaster. Where I’m struggling against my bladders protests of “No really! It’s not the uterus pressing on me, you have to pee! I know I’m not doing a very good job of proving it, but I promise! Come onnnn, we’ve known each other our entire lives! Don’t you believe me?” And I fall for it every time.
But I digress.
People who carry phone conversations in the ladies room are obnoxious and if it didn’t offend my Southern sensibilities, I would totally fart really really loud just to embarrass the offending caller.