Long before 9-5 moved to 8-6, American workers have been spending too much time together cooped up in cages scrabbling for our white picket fences. We know far too much information about each other that we'd prefer not to know.
Right before the holidays, Greenberg came back to his desk from the john very disgusted and extremely disappointed in the human race:
Anne. Anne. Anne?
Yes?
Nanners!
What? (typing, not turning around)
I have to talk to you. I just saw something very disturbing.
Yeah? What?
Anne. (implying that I should turn around for this)
What happened? (I turn around)
Let's say that a massive Budweiser horse, one of those Clydesdales, managed to get up here to the 28th floor, plow himself into the men's room, barge into the second to last stall, and unload the biggest pile of crap--a pile--and after that, manage to turn himself around in there and then proceed to piss on it, and then simply gallop out of there without flushing it, and leaving it there for everyone. It's above sea level. It's absolutely disgusting. Who does that? Who does that and doesn't flush it? I had to sit in the first stall to do my business and sat there with my shirt sleeve up to my nose. I'm very upset. This is very disturbing. Anne, it's not good. Someone DOES have a fucking problem. Who doesn't flush? I DEMAND to know who it is. I want a DNA test.
Wow. Gross.
Want to see it?
Kinda.
5 minutes later, I'm walking down the hall to the men's room with 5 guys to see the poo pile. They all go in together as I waited outside.
"MAN!! OH MY GOD!" I heard through the door.
Then Greenberg escorted me in for my tour while the dudes watched the door. Greenberg held the stall door open with his giraffe arm and sure enough, I saw exactly what Greenberg had described. Certainly something you wouldn't expect to see in an professional office john, more likely what'd you'd see on a farm, in a Mobil station, or what'd be at the bottom of a Bonnaroo port-o-potty. Rough. And clearly the stench was foul, I mean, the doody was above the water level, man. Totally hitting the air. It might as well been all over the floor. I wanted to flush it. But Greenberg thought it'd end up on the floor that way. "It's too much! It can't be done!"
Then we ran stood outside and grabbed a couple male employees and told them to look at it.
Well, I did.
"Guys! I have to tell you something. There's a big doody in the second to last stall. Go look at it."
"OH, SHIT!"
and
"OH MY GOD!"
They said respectively.
The End.
Right before the holidays, Greenberg came back to his desk from the john very disgusted and extremely disappointed in the human race:
Anne. Anne. Anne?
Yes?
Nanners!
What? (typing, not turning around)
I have to talk to you. I just saw something very disturbing.
Yeah? What?
Anne. (implying that I should turn around for this)
What happened? (I turn around)
Let's say that a massive Budweiser horse, one of those Clydesdales, managed to get up here to the 28th floor, plow himself into the men's room, barge into the second to last stall, and unload the biggest pile of crap--a pile--and after that, manage to turn himself around in there and then proceed to piss on it, and then simply gallop out of there without flushing it, and leaving it there for everyone. It's above sea level. It's absolutely disgusting. Who does that? Who does that and doesn't flush it? I had to sit in the first stall to do my business and sat there with my shirt sleeve up to my nose. I'm very upset. This is very disturbing. Anne, it's not good. Someone DOES have a fucking problem. Who doesn't flush? I DEMAND to know who it is. I want a DNA test.
Wow. Gross.
Want to see it?
Kinda.
5 minutes later, I'm walking down the hall to the men's room with 5 guys to see the poo pile. They all go in together as I waited outside.
"MAN!! OH MY GOD!" I heard through the door.
Then Greenberg escorted me in for my tour while the dudes watched the door. Greenberg held the stall door open with his giraffe arm and sure enough, I saw exactly what Greenberg had described. Certainly something you wouldn't expect to see in an professional office john, more likely what'd you'd see on a farm, in a Mobil station, or what'd be at the bottom of a Bonnaroo port-o-potty. Rough. And clearly the stench was foul, I mean, the doody was above the water level, man. Totally hitting the air. It might as well been all over the floor. I wanted to flush it. But Greenberg thought it'd end up on the floor that way. "It's too much! It can't be done!"
Then we ran stood outside and grabbed a couple male employees and told them to look at it.
Well, I did.
"Guys! I have to tell you something. There's a big doody in the second to last stall. Go look at it."
"OH, SHIT!"
and
"OH MY GOD!"
They said respectively.
The End.
20 comments:
Anne, this is truly a post after my own heart. I'm crying right now. Not tears of sadness, mind you, but tears of joy.
I'm glad everyone involved was being paid.
how do you know that the culprit wasn't among the people checking out the scene?
This is The Workplace at its finest.
Rest Rooms out of order due to huge turd.
How did corporate America change 9 - 5 without anyone noticing? Why did we let them get away with this?
As far as the turd, yeah, sharing a bathroom with other "professionals" will quickly change how you feel about humanity.
I wish I had this kind of relationship with MY co-workers. Single teardrop.
Excellent!
I've been giggling uncontrollably since I began reading this post. My coworkers think I'm nuts, but not Armageddon-Turd nuts.
listen. doody is funny. they'll understand.
yuk. this is horrible. i read the post yesterday and tried to forget about it. but it's been haunting me....
i work in "corporate america" and have also found myself questioning humanity a few times in similar bathroom situations.
this is why i am hoping to be laid off so i can go home where things make sense and the only crap i see is the dog crap in the backyard, where crap was meant to be!!!
well, dog crap, that is... or maybe bunny and deer crap too.... just no super-size human crap!!!
ok, i'm gonna go forget about this post again.
I don't get it.....
Had to be an actuary. Can't trust those guys for nothin'.
Wait wait wait...ABOVE the water level!?! Was it all stacked up like a Jenga tower, or was it just a good old fashioned 37 pound mesa of BM?
37 lb mesa of BM. horseplop style, no Jenja structure to it at all.
BTW- Now all the Google ads in my browser are for toilet parts and repair.
Thanks, thanks a lot.
Nice work!
ohmygodgggggggross!!!!
Actually, it was probably Greenburg his own self. He just wanted to show off what he had created.
newbie bloggers? I can't give you much advice, but i can tell you this:
you want comments?
post about doody.
love,
anne and doodle.
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