Friday, December 28, 2007

Where has YOUR ass been?

By now I'm used to seeing unsettling things when I go in to inspect the men's restroom at the beginning of my shift and often at the end of the day. However, I was at a loss to explain what I found on the seat of our toilet when inspecting it today.

I found wet leaves.

Yes, you read me right... Wet. Leaves. On. The. Toilet. Seat.

Mind you, there were only a couple of leaves to speak of, but that's two too many to not be odd. See, in order for wet leaves to be found on a toilet seat, the person who left them there had to have either placed them there intentionally by hand or, at some point in the recent past, they had to have sat down, bare-assed, in some wet leaves and picked up at least two on a cheek that way.

I briefly considered the possibility that the person who left them had merely had wet leaves on the soles of their shoes and had stood on the toilet seat for whatever reason people have for standing on a toilet seat. However, if your shoes are dirty enough to have wet leaves on them they're dirty enough to leave shoe-prints, and I saw none.

Or, maybe they found the leaves stuck to their shoes while using the restroom, attempted to drop them into the toilet to flush, missed the bowl and then were so terrified of the deadly, ass-bacteria teaming on our toilet seat that they just left them there rather than risk contamination in the removal process.

Yeah, that seems about right.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

How about when the person pressed the flush handle with their foot, the leaves fell from their shoe?

Juice S. Aaron said...

Possibly this is the case, but if so the leaves would have likely have fallen off on the floor first as the seat is not directly beneath the handle. They might have then picked them up and tried to drop them in the toilet, but missed the bowl, landed them closer to the front of the seat and then left them there.

ordinaryjanet said...

it's more likely someone's screwing with your head.

librarianwoes said...

I see old "Autumn Arse" paid you a visit. I hear that's good luck in some parts. :-)


An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.