This past week, I wrote over on Orange the Brave about the TLC show Toddlers and Tiaras. I don’t watch the show myself, but I get uncomfortable criticizing the girls on the pageant circuit because like… they’re girls. All girls deserve respect. And clearly, some of them are having a freaking good time and are little spitfire individuals. Gotta love that a pageant kid’s favorite food is “everything.”
I have felt kind of under the weather all week, and have not felt too productive, so I don’t have much to share with you. Instead, I’ll just cross-post a true story that I originally shared on Tumblr:
This morning at work, I was hit with the undeniable urge to pee. This happens every few hours for me – you know, I have to pee. Every few hours. And because I had to pee, I went to the bathroom.
Let me tell you something about the ladies’ room at my office – it is a mixed fucking bag. There are usually no less than five silverfish, creeping along in that almost viscous way they do, stark against the white tile floor. One must hold the handle on both of the toilets in order for whatever one has just evacuated to be flushed away, and because of this, I often discover “surprises” waiting for me.
So when I tell you that I walked into the bathroom to be greeted by the foulest stench I have ever encountered, know that I have happened upon toilet bowls full of menstrual blood, vomit, and shit of every consistency in that bathroom – and none of that smelled as rancid as it smelled this morning.
Being the good citizen that I am, I hastened to flush away whatever was causing the offending stench. In the first stall, I lifted the lid on the toilet, and saw only clear water. In the second stall, I opened the lid, and found what I was looking for.
It was pee. It wasn’t particularly dark, but a bit more day-glo than I am used to – the urine of someone who consumes a lot of vitamins or glow sticks. But what sickened me even more than the smell had already done was the fact that there was no paper mellowing in the toilet. Just pee.
Considering where I work, it’s very unlikely that a man would pee in a ladies’ room. I have to assume, then, that it was a woman who was responsible for the piss. A woman who deigned to wipe her snatch. A woman who, even now, must have traces of the rankest smelling urine on the planet drying in the crotch of her cotton panties. And ye shall know her by her odor.
Have a beautiful and odor-free weekend!