in which I admire my coworker
November 24, 2009
In the hopes of catching the serial pooper in action, I have been visiting the break room earlier and earlier each day. I still have not found that special man or woman who leaves behind a fetid dogfood stench, but I did discover a new-found admiration for my coworker, M.
When I came into the break room, both bathrooms were full and locked. I waited for a while…a loooong while. I thought perhaps the serial pooper had been to a bathroom and left the light/fan on to help alleviate the smell of carnage, but when I stepped up to the door to listen, I could hear water running and someone moving around. I stepped back out into the break room to wait. A few moments later, I heard a flush, then another, softer flush. I heard the sound of someone washing their hands under the already running water, then the water shut off and the ka-chunk, ka-chunk of the paper towel dispenser sounded. The door opened, and my coworker, M, came out, blushing slightly. She nodded a hello to me and made a hasty exit.
And then I was faced with the moment of truth. Would I finally learn that M was the serial pooper? M is an older woman with somewhat questionable taste in food, so the chances seemed fairly good. However, after all her careful preparations (running water, the secondary courtesy flush, the mumbled “hello” and hasty exit), I was second guessing myself. The serial pooper must be someone without a shred of poo shame, and it was clear that M was definitely embarrassed upon her exit. I entered the bathroom, at once relieved and disappointed. The room smelled like eau de older woman, but certainly not like a half-burnt ritualistic slaughter grounds that had been exposed to the July sun. It was clear that M is not the serial pooper. I was relieved that I didn’t have to endure another malodrous bathroom break, but was also quite disappointed that the mystery remained.
I am glad to know that my coworker shares my shame. Perhaps someday M and I can comisserate about our mutual poo shame, but for those of us in the poo shame club, the first rule of poo shame is that you don’t talk about poo shame.
