I hate it when I walk into the bathroom near my office immediately after someone has stinkily pooped therein. It’s impossible to hold my breath no matter how quick a pisser I may be. I also dislike trying to breathe through my mouth in such a situation, being haunted by the thought that I can somehow taste the stench.
Things only get worse, though, when another person walks when I’m only half finished. They have no evidence to support the claim that it wasn’t I who polluted the place. This is especially bad when the other person is someone I know, such as a member of my department’s faculty. This is just an example.
I think you can kind of smell through your mouth. Watch out for that. I remember being stuck in a movie theater when a kid felt a sudden urgency. So foul.
Sorry, that was probably me. I’m still suffering from the GI upset I brought back from Uzbekistan.
I usually blame it on the cat, but that’s difficult to do in this case as the cat seldom sused the faculty rest room.
That happens all the time in my office too. I never imagined classical musicians could create such a stench. Now I always stay in the cubicle until everyone’s gone, and wear somebody else’s shoes in case anyone peeps under the partition.
What about farts in elevators? How rank is that?
leave some matches in there. maybe they’ll get the hint. i always leave a pack on the window sill on my hall if i have any.
also, i think the hiding and wearing someone else’s shoes is ingenious. or you could just pull yr feet up until the fellow restroom user leaves.
sometimes you gotta go, man! i spend so much time at school (cause i can’t get anything done at home–ask me about the “clothing project” that has been my office since the summer) that i inevitably have to crap there from time to time. i generally try to go when i know no one will be coming in for a while–i know it’s bad, but i often get up during class as the bathrooms are pretty empty then. but i always worry, and usually take the can of air freshener spray in with me and start spraying immediately. and i always give a courtesy flush.
but what i really hate is when i rush in having to poo, and some fucking chowderhead is powdering her dainty little nose (which i am trying valiantly not to assault with stinkiness). she just takes forever! makeup! washing hands meticulously! drying hands meticulously! rearranging clothing! and there i am having to go so bad and just wanting to let loose while screaming “fuck you, then! you had your chance! get out of here! jesus christ!” i was going to post about this cause it happened just this week, but i feel vindicated now. thanks, vague!
I also am afraid of breathing through my mouth when confronted with bad smells, as if I might be able to taste the rankness.
Bathrooms smell bad, don’t people know this?
I feel your frustration. I have to live the nightmare of a dual-sex bathroom. Try leaving a stall and encountering a member of the opposite gender. Bleh.
On another note, I like this blog’s use of copious amounts of the “f-word”. Can’t use it in your academic writing, so you use it here, huh?
You know, carry a small bottle of Orange Mate with you. It’s tiny and powerful. One shot of the stuff and all odor is gone. It can fit into any small purse and it’s 99% citrus extacts. No weird chemicals. It actually smells so nice and non-intrusive, no one would mind if it was even just left in the bathroom for everyone to use. And it’s cheap to buy too!!! Better than matches.
Okay - even more disturbing: the people on my floor don’t even CARE if anyone is in the bathroom. They will fart, shit, vomit, EXPLODE - will sometimes have the couresy to spray - but will do all this as if no one else is there. Or, if they decide you ARE there, they make stall conversation - my absolute worst fucking nightmare. I, on the otherhand, am of the waiting variety. (PS Vague - you’d need to wear a space suit to avoid the germs in this one… bah!!!).
I like to take a few cantelope into the stall with me. I wait for someone to come in, and I start grunting and cursing. Then I drop the melons into the bowl one by one from a height of three feet, accompanied by moans of relief.
Do this once, and you will have the place to yourself for the rest of your tenure.
J– Eeeh. Yeah. Smell and taste are kind of connected, so there is, unfortunately, no escape.
Dr. E.– Damn you! I figured it might be Irish Bob, though. I seem to remember some stories about his bathroom exploits….
HB– Aha! Someone else’s shoes! Brilliant! I will just beat up someone from the Folklore office (beside mine; loud, inconsiderate brutes) and take theirs. They all wear Birkenstocks, of course, so there will be no mistake about whom to blame.
OP– Argh. Don’t get me started about the elevators in the building. Nightmarish!
C– Matches–good idea. I have a ton of those hanging around at home.
M– Damn, you put a lot of planning into this! I can’t believe you go during class! This cracks me up!
J- it’s true! The only solution is an oxygen mask, I’m afraid.
T– They don’t have to, though. Not all the time.
A-B– Well, at least I have comfort in the fact that I don’t have to share with a bunch of guys. As to the F-word, yay! I do fucking love that word, and I certainly can’t get away with it in class. I mean, some professors do curse in their lectures, but I think it tends to seem like a desperate attempt to appear young and hip and “with it,” as the kids used to say. La-hame.
O– I’ve never heard of that stuff–I’ll have to investigate. Sounds good.
C– Aaack! You definitely have me beat there! Gross. Stall conversation freaks me out, too. Once I ran into a (former) student in a bar bathroom, and she kept drunkenly trying to engage me in conversation long after I had gotten into the stall and begun my business. So awkward. I hope your place is well stocked with soap and/or hand sanitizer. I am feeling the urge to wash up just thinking about it.
J– Oh, dear! That sounds scary indeed. I imagine there’d be quite a job removing the canteloupes from the toilet after, though. In that case, just deny, deny, deny.
Urinal conversation is worse than stall conversation. So is the guy who, though there are many free urinals, decides he absolutely must use the one next to you.
Just because I can piss standing up, does not mean I want to do it next to some other dude. I will confess, I will go into stalls to piss if others are in the bathroom. I have a nervous bladder. It is shy.
here’s a little factoid tidbit to make you run and scream in terror…
You know what makes ’smell’ work, don’t you? it’s little tiny pieces of whatever it is that break off in the air and float to make direct contact with your nose’s smell receptors. So, when you breathe through your mouth, you’re getting you-know-what in your mouth.
Thank you, Joshua. I must vomit now. Luckily, I am at home and don’t have to worry about privacy. Excuse me.