Bathroom Talk
I know I said to keep it clean here, but I have to talk dirty for a minute.

I've changed a lot over the past couple of years in one specific area. I used to be a major germ-ophobe. You know, afraid to touch anything for fear of germs, washing my hands frequently, always carrying anti-bacterial hand cleanser. I'm not sure when I became so afraid of germs, or why. I guess it just became one of the things I obsessed about. When I fixate on something, it becomes a major obsession. Case in point: M&Ms.

Anyway, I'm now pretty much cured of my germ issues. How, you ask? Simple. A couple of trips to Russia did the trick. The purpose of the trips was not to cure me of my germ issues. My cure was just a byproduct of the adventures. After spending time in a country with an entirely different interpretation of the words 'clean' or 'hygiene', you learn that the germiest thing in America is automatically at least 100 times cleaner than the cleanest thing in Russia. Don't get me wrong, I love Russia. But be warned, it'll scare the germ fear right out of you. Germs, dirt, stench, et all run completely amok in Russia.

For instance, bathrooms. I was warned before going that there is a far inferior sewage system in Russia, and that toilet paper is scarce. But I was not prepared for the shocking difference in facilities upon my first trip to Russia. Since the pipes are so bad in Russia, you can't flush toilet paper, when you can find or purchase a few squares of toilet paper. In one restroom, the toilet 'paper' was actually sheets torn out of a book. But toilet paper aside, upon hitting the door of a restroom, you are immediately greeted by an offensive aroma and some things you don't ever want to see in a trash can. And these are the 'nice' restrooms in restaurants and hotels and such. Out in the sticks, you're doing well to get a covered hole and toilet paper that isn't frozen to the wall of the shack containing the hole.

Having endured these conditions now twice, you'd think I'd be prepared for whatever restroom atrocities that could possibly take place here in the States. We have far superior restroom functionality and standards here. So by default, you'd think things wouldn't be as bad. Yet, here at work I am continually shocked by what I endure during my trips to the restroom.

We have the potential to have a very nice restroom. It's a one-seater just for the women, with a locking door, so in theory it should be a very pleasant experience. You don't have to share the room with anyone while you're in there. You have complete privacy, plenty of room to stretch out or walk around a bit, and you don't have to worry about being interrupted while engaged in whatever bathroom activity you feel the need to embrace while in there.

My office is upstairs from the ladies restroom. Since there are only a few ladies in this building, it doesn't get nearly as much use as the men's facilities. You'd think it would be a pretty safe place to do necessary business. But, you'd think wrong. Truly, I'm appalled that some of the females here are so bold as to their use of the restroom in ways that should only be done at home in the privacy of your own, personal bathroom. It's one thing to funk up your own place, but it's a whole weird etiquette thing to go to work and funk the place up there.

Being upstairs, I can never tell when someone has just been in the restroom. And I swear I don't know how it happens, but I always manage to time my visits immediately following someone who has been in there doing some major, well, work. There are only a few people who could be the offending culprits, and yet I haven't quite managed to determine who gets in there and does so much damage. Maybe they are working as a team, conspiring against me. Whatever the case, they lay some major traps for me to discover once I've already committed to needing the facilities.

I always wait as long as I can, because I know what awaits me downstairs. I'm very sensitive to smells, and without fail, every time I open the door I'm hit by a wave of odor that shouldn't be humanly possible coming from any woman on earth. Once I've opened the door and timidly ventured in, there's no turning back. I've committed to the process, and I can't very well abort the mission and flee back up the stairs. I can only grab one last giant gulp of fresh hallway air, enter the demon restroom, think of my 'happy place', and hurry as best I can through what I need to do.

Sometimes, the bad smell isn't the worst part. Often the offending culprit has tried to mask the bad odor with what they hope to be a better aroma, in the form of air-freshener. I swear this can of air-freshener is the same can from the first day I started working here. It's been there maybe since the Mission was founded. It's a never-ending can. And it's not a good scent. So on top of the overwhelming stench of business gone bad, we often have the overbearing aroma of bad air-freshener. Since it's an enclosed room with a locking door and no ventilation, the mixture seems to increase in strength the longer I'm in there. It's a suffocating mix. And it burns my eyes.

Beyond the smell, sometimes the culprit leaves presents for me on the toliet seat. And I truly don't understand it. How is it possible to leave something behind on the seat without knowing? Surely if they knew they'd left an unwanted gift, they would have the presence of mind and the decency to clean it up. This tells me they aren't looking or considering that others do use the same restroom and don't appreciate their remnants left behind. There is plenty of room to turn around and make sure the coast is clear when you are finished with your business. If you see something, clean it up. It got so bad for awhile that I posted a sign about keeping the seat clean, to add to the other signs already posted asking people to turn out the lights and such. I didn't think we were 3rd graders, but apparently some of us are. We need lots of signs on proper bathroom use. But for the love of Pete, who cares about the lights when there are hazardous landmines laying in wait on the toilet seat??? Get your priorities straight, people.

For the sake of argument, I have not reverted back to my germ fearing ways. And actually, I feel much better not worrying about everything I touch, and I haven't been sick in quite a long while. Germs, schmerms. But for purposes of human decency and acceptable amounts of workplace torture, I feel that if I am forced to be here at work all day, when it comes time for me to use the facilities they should be at a certain level of cleanliness, and at a much lower level of smelliness. When in Russia, that's a different story, and a different level of expectations. But here in America, I have the right to a clean, odor-free restroom at my place of employment.

I shouldn't have to enter a bio-hazard everytime I need to use the facilities. I just don't have the haz-mat suit or gas mask for that sort of thing.

C.T.