Parting Gift

Yes, yes. I'm parting, but you all get the gift. What I'm pasting below was inspired by my actual experiences with the various mens' restrooms here at my office. I admit to being a bit of a public restroom-o-phobe. I'm a guy - I can pee anywhere. But when nature calls for a serious discussion, I would rather be at home than anywhere else. Home shitter advantage is, I dare say, more important to me than the home bed advantage that invariably makes a lovin' session go more smoothly at one's own place than on the road.

As some of you might have gathered, however, I'm in my office for such ridiculous percentages of the day that waiting to get home just isn't an option at this point in my life (as it was all through elementary, junior high, and high school - never once, I swear!). Having had to accept that the stalls here are, in a sense, my home, I foolishly expect everyone else who shares them with me to live up to my exacting standards. You know, those of human beings. I mean come on - it's a law firm, not a prison, right? Alas, it is not to be. Below, the result of my shock and awe. I truly wanted to send it as a firmwide email. I thought better of it. But now, I hope I've found a more receptive audience. Enjoy would be the wrong word, but read, and react as you will:

How?

An Open Letter to the Men of [LiAps's Place of Employment]

Having been a fixture in this place myself
for years numbering almost four
Having been based on four different floors
in those four years
Having had to accept the reality that, like it or not
this place is my home away from home
One question burns within me
like so many chicken mole enchiladas

I have seen it, with mine own eyes
time and again, on 16, 17, 18, 20
It does not compute, I cannot make sense
What am I missing? I hunger for the truth
Please, an explanation is all I seek
for I cannot, for the life of me figure it out
Tell me, men: attorneys, staff, visitors if need be
How do you shit on the seat?

Pee on the seat? I understand
I neither condone nor approve, but understand, yes
When peeing is my sole purpose for a bathroom visit
I choose the urinal, invariably
Nevertheless, were I to enter a stall, and fail to lift the seat
Not that I would, but if, a few stray drops would not shock me
But knowing what I do about the human body I cannot fathom
How do you shit on the seat?

Do you hover above, without touching ass to plastic
like many a woman in a public restroom?
If so, why?
Are our seats not clean enough for you?
Not well maintained by the dedicated janitorial staff?
Such that you hesitate to sit, even on a protective layer of tp
If so, I understand the inclination
Perhaps you, too, have seen the shit on the seat

Does your ass point upward
like an anti-aircraft machine gun?
If so, I apologize
I mean no disrespect to the physically challenged
But a request, my upward ass-pointing friends
And I pledge to seek the cooperation of Office Services
Could you hang upside down, from a beam to be installed
so your peculiar excretory trajectory does not result
in shit on the seat

Many thanks.


Have fun everybody. If possible, I'll blog from London. Yeah, I just want to say I blogged internationally. I'm a loser.