Can I just ask you all a question? Because I'm dying to know. What the fuck is wrong with some people? And why do those people always come to the library? I'm really at a loss.
If you hadn't guessed already, I had to work tonight. As most Thursday nights go, it was slow and coupled with the fact that we've shown both the movies before, it was fucking painful. So I wasted as much time as I could and then ended up sitting in on the second movie. (I hadn't seen it and it was actually well worth it.)
After the show I checked the theatre, closed up and got ready to head home. But before I left I stopped in the washroom. Now the staff washroom is on the other side of two locked doors and, frankly, not worth the hassle if you're in a rush to go home so I just used the public washroom.
When will I ever learn?
Now I'm sure your choice of bathroom stall says lots about you, but for me I almost always go for the first stall. I don't know why. Laziness probably. Why walk to the other end if I don't have to? So that's the one I went to this evening. I pushed open the stall door and stopped. Like screeching halt, red-alert, iceberg dead ahead, kind of stopped.
(This is the part where you can imagine the Psycho shower stabbing-type music.)
Smeared across the inside of the open lid and mushed between the lid and the seat was a hefty piece of shit. I'm not talking about a little tiny streak, I'm talking a mashed up log.
At this point I ran to another stall. After which I washed my hands. Thoroughly. Then told the projectionist about the problem. I mean, wouldn't you? And he, of course, told maintenance. The maintenance guy came to take a look.
His description?
"Looks like peanut butter!"
Oh yeah, all class.
He also decided to leave it for the morning guy.
Me? I left. Quickly. That is sooooooo not my job.
2 comments:
*retching*
You're welcome!
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