…And It’s Come to Workplace Toilets

I'mma Spray Your Ass the Minute You Walk in Here, Bitch...
During my tenure at my current place of employment, I have enjoyed a relatively hassle-free relationship with my bathroom needs. I drink about a pot and a half of coffee every day so I am in there as much as anybody. I know the nooks and crannies of the bathroom, I know its mannerisms. I have a pretty good idea who is urinating on the floor and I am positive that I know who continuously leaves the sports page in the handicap stall. I’ve got a rhythm. A routine, if you will. Until recently…
Someone, (or something) who has more power than I will ever have, is screwing with the sanctity of my bathroom experience. It’s gotten to the point that I can’t even use the one designated for the public. Eventually, I am going to have to get up from my desk, go out to my vehicle, and drive to Quiktrip. I can’t believe that one human being can do this to another. So what happened?
Someone really does get a considerable amount of urine on the floor on a daily basis. Before, the night cleaning crew would come in and give it a once-over. Traditionally they didn’t do a very good job, but at least the area got some attention. Today, some joker has installed a no-slip mat that looks like a miniature mud flap off of an 18-wheeler. Apparently they couldn’t handle the potential humiliation that awaited the guy that slipped and fell into a puddle of urine. Perhaps they had already fallen into a puddle of urine at some other job and couldn’t bear the thought that it might happen again. You can imagine what happened – The guy started urinating on the mat. Nobody ever wants to touch the mat so that they can mop beneath it. Now the room reeks of weeks worth of urine. Good thinking.
I speculate that to combat this smell (along with others inherent to the bathroom (I swear that some of the people around here eat rotten eggs for every meal)), this evil figure ordered that automatic bathroom-freshener-sprayer-thing be installed in the room. There is one facing inward between the two stalls and one next to the sink. These devices have become the bane of my existence.
First, when a person is using a public bathroom and someone else is there, what goes on is very businesslike. You do your thing, you wash your hands, you leave. Perhaps a little small talk, but that’s it. When a person is by themselves, everything is fair game as long as your can compose yourself within the time frame of when you hear them opening the door and when they actually open the door (about a second). Although one can’t get away with much, it does become possible to pick ones teeth, check for ear and nose hair, remove that wedgie and maybe even relax a little bit. Anyway, these stupid bathroom sprayers make noises when they go off. There is the sound of plastic rubbing against plastic. There is a weird clicking noise that sounds like the shutter on a camera. Then there is a spraying noise. When a person is enjoying the respite allowed by private bathroom time, this device going off is enough to give the guy a coronary. I feel like smashing it every time it goes off.
Second, the spray on these devices is strong enough to disperse the ‘pleasant odor’several feet per second. The business end of these devices are mounted approximately 81 inches off of the floor. With my work boots on, I am approximately 74½ inches. You do the math. That’s right – it sprays right on my head as I am washing my hands almost every time. I am then forced to spend my workday smelling like whatever scent the evil entity chooses.
Finally, the scent itself is intolerable. Dave Attell said it best when he said, “What do you got going on in here? What, is there a lemonade stand in here with me? Stop trying to hide it! Nothing beats ass!! First, it was ass and that phony ‘rainy day’ type smell. That lasted for about two weeks. Now its cinnamon. Cinnamon! As if we are to believe that somebody stopped taking a dump long enough to bake up a batch of sticky buns.
So if you see me standing in line waiting for the bathroom at QT smelling like I just baked off a batch of cinnamon-sprinkled asscakes, just leave me alone – I’ve had a rough day.
I’m 6’8″ (80inches tall) and I refer to these things as wall-mounted Mace dispensers. I’ve caught it in the ear, the hair but not the eyes…YET! The other annoying part is when they are out of spray, they beep. So, you’re sitting there, enjoying a little quiet time, and you hear BEEP-BEEP every every minute or so. It’s like a frickin’ egg timer or something. BEEP-BEEP! Poop’s Done!!
We actually had someone steal one of these contraptions out of our restroom at work. Now that I read this article I think someone may “disposed” of it for the reasons listed. It always did smell like someone shit a Christmas tree.
I WISH we had one of those in the bathroom at work. Instead, I work with people that are inconsiderate and don’t spray or leave the fan on. I think I’m the only one that ever changes the toilet paper roll when it’s empty, too. I hate my job.
Well, we know for sure that Jeff didn’t write this update. Pretty funny. Though I hope all of the “automatic bathroom-freshener-sprayer-thing” lovers don’t come here crying about how their offended.
People that piss all over the floor should be called out on it. Public humiliation works EVERY time.
Can anyone explain this behavior: I was in the restroom at my workplace and I had just used the urinal and was washing my hands. A co-worker walked in and went to the urinal and, the next thing I know, he’s got both of his hands on his hips. I caught it in the mirror out of the corner of my eye and had to do a double-take. He was standing there like Superman with both hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. What the cock? I’ve seen him in there several times since then and he does it every time (and then he leaves without washing his hands).
Hey – I get a faint whiff of whinery off this. Or is that ass? Either way, seems we’re slipping into strai’ on bitchery, which is pretty exciting territory in its own right.
The mockability of the clickety-pop bathroom ‘freshener’ is not to be argued with. It’s very nearly useless. The truck-flap bathmat issue is pure grossness. Bleah.
Man, I love QuikTrip.