E. Zora Knight

My photo
a special order, straight queer and strong black.

2005-11-04

What U Learn From A Visit to the Rest Room

True Story
Posted Sign....
Please remember to flush after each use.
Odd. I think as I use my foot to flush the toilet. I've never noticed this before. I mean, we are at the __________ however, there is no one in my building, that I'm aware of, that has any brain degenerating disorder which would require an friendly reminder to flush.
Please remember to wash your hands.
Wow, never had a problem with that I say aloud, as I use paper towels to turn off the water. But I am also painfully aware that I should never eat... I'll get to that later.
Please courtesy flush. Please flush after every ___ seconds of sitting.
Now this sign is in the wrong place. Unstrategically placed beside the sign reminding us to wash our hands. Damn... this has to be a joke. At this moment, I believe that in any second a television camera, it's crew and a bunch of balloons or something similarly goofy is going to pop out of no where and scare me half to death.
Please pick up your trash, the restroom is only cleaned once during the work day.
Someone needs a "fcking life. I think, carefully placing another paper towel between my hand and the door knob, as open it to walk into the hallway.
Chuckling, I pondered. Then realized the author of the posted signs was passive aggressive and pretty fcking controlling. The restroom in itself is pretty dreary, dimly lit, with a mild eggshell paint, with the putrid combative smell of aged bleach, dirty mops, and spray sanitation/germicide. It smells like a nursing home. Most of the women who enter are not ladies, and can be described as barbaric. There's the woman who suffers from anorexia who takes uneaten food in containers into the stall with her, does godknowswhat, then rushes out without ever allowing a drop of water to touch her hands. The woman who known as humpty dumpty or notre dame who grunts and coughs the entire time she's there. The mysterious "unidentified woman" who has taking a number 2 in public down to a science. No one has ever laid eyes on her. The "pp talker" who talks to you the entire time you're in there.
Now, there is someone new... paper graffiti. This could be anyone. I work in an atmosphere that lends itself to lonely older women who gossip, mother and control. When they can't bait you into one of the games, you become the object of gossip, often having things made up about you. It's hilarious, yet sad. One woman, whom I shall call Lay's), believed, then took it a step further and reported to my supervisor that I was on my cell phone (There is no policy against cell phone use). A few weeks ago, she had the unmitigated gall to walk up to me and talk. The conversation went something like this:
she "I hear you're a poet. They (who are these THEYS?) tell me you are not on the phone, but practicing during your lunch and as you go from building to building. Someone (I wonder who) told me that you use the earpiece so that people don't think you're talking to yourself and also not be disturbed (mostly used as a pesticide to keep away pests like you, but a sister is on the phone sometimes, ya know?). That you have a show or something coming up. You were on NPS or something like that. They (again who are these THEYS) say if they (who is THEY) walk up behind you (behind me? am I under surveillance?), they (who the hell is THEY and why don't I know them) can hear you. You have one poem about some music or something and they (I'm never going to be introduced to THEY am I, Bitch?) really like that one. I always thought to myself (did it hurt?) when I would see you (so now you're looking for me 'cuz you work on the other side of my building), that girl's (why do I have to be a child?) always on the phone. And I told someone (now we both know damn well you didn't stop at one. you're ass is like a bag of Lay's potato chips, can't stop at one), that girl's (again, what's with the girl?) always on the phone. And they (you have one more time with the THEY then I am going to walk away before I catch a case) said no, she's a poet she's practicing...."
Did I get a word in? As Whitney says HELL TO DA NAW. This __________ continued to talk as if 1) she wasn't offensive 2) like she didn't deserve to be cursed out and 3) like she could continue running her fcking mouth and walk away with her teeth intact. It's a bunch of nutty ass women exactly like that walking freely around my building. So why would I expect different, graffiti artist clearly AMPLIFIES that something is definitely missing in their lives.... A LIFE....
I can feel graffiti artist, I'm also tired of walking into a rank smelling "ladies" room, with trash all over the floor, being brushed by people who don't flush, let alone wash their hands. But here's a few things to keep you sane:
1) holding your breath when you enter the restroom.
2) flush with your foot.
3) use paper towels when using the faucet handles, open the door and place them in the trash can outside the door.
4) don't make eye contact, it's an invitation to talk... and when they do talk, look interested, but never say a word.... they will eventually stop.
5) the most important... NEVER EAT POTLUCK THESE _________________ are NASTY...

4 comments:

Shelle said...

cracking up laughing ova here on my break....
u say what we want to lol
yep some nasty azz people out there indeed...
good one 13 good one

bRandy said...

Why do I hit this site religiously?
a. to read something that can take my breath away.
b. to read something that can make me cry.
c. to get to know you better.
d. to read something that can have me cracking up.
e. the fact that i can come here for all of the above.

I think we know that "e" is the answer...i love coming here. i NEVER know what i'm going to get, except that I am guaranteed to leave feeling more intelligent than i came--just by taking a glimpse into your head and your world.

-B

joey said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
joey said...

damn brandy! beautifully put! 13, thanks for the laughs, this shit is hilarious!

much love,
jo