In light of this month’s theme, I thought I’d share a story about open communication in the workplace. It’s no secret that I love my potty humor, so here's a little pick-me-up to start your day. In fact, this one happens to be a true story from earlier this morning.

I've been at work for all of an hour at this point and finally decide to go about doing my business in the second office. When I get in there, two of the three stalls are occupied, leaving only the middle one that I hate. First of all, the door latch is faulty, so it swings open if somebody slams one of the other stall doors (this happens more often than you'd think) and second of all it has no water pressure, so you have to flush it twice or else you'll leave evidence. Being a man who prefers to cover his tracks, this is annoying.

Still, when you gotta go you gotta go... so I go... While sitting back and letting my mind roam towards the simple subtleties of television shows, I happen to glance over and see the dreaded empty toilet paper roll. It had been hidden behind dark plastic as I entered and although I normally check before I even sit down, I'm never all there in the morning (or these days ANY time of day). By this time the guy to the left of me had already exited the premises, leaving only the heavy breather to the right.



With a deep breath I mustered up the courage to announce, "Hey, this is kind of awkward, but there's no toilet paper in this stall. Could you grab a wad and send it over my way?" I sat waiting for a response, greeted only by more heavy breathing.

The breathing continued for a few more minutes before there was a clanking of a belt clicking on the tile and the sound of toilet paper making its way across the roll before ripping off. At this point, I assumed that the first wad would be for himself. The man was occupying the handicap stall, or luxury suite as we call it, and it made sense that maybe he'd finish before walking over to the edge and handing a wad under instead of trying to toss it across. I heard the sound of the second wad being pulled and sighed with relief, only to be disappointed again by the sound of wiping. I was a bit uneasy about the third wad being pulled and when I didn't receive this one either, I realized that whoever this was, not only were they an asshole, they used even more toilet paper than my wife does.

Then, to make the taunting even worse, he turns around, lifts the lid, and begins to take a piss. Why he couldn't do this while dropping a deuce will forever remain a mystery, but there he was, ignoring my subtle cry for help. I tried again, "Hello? I could still use some help over here."

-Nothing

A zipper make it's fast track up north and footsteps as heavy as the breathing made their way across the stall and to the door. Not surprisingly, the man walked right past my stall door without so much as a glance in my direction. I, on the other hand, did get a glance... and then started laughing. The man in the stall next to me was Tim, the one deaf guy in an office of 350. The irony was awesome. I patiently waited until he finished washing his hands and made his way out of the restroom before flushing twice and darting to the next stall over to finish my duty.

Two things immediately flooded my mind. I could've written him a note if I hadn't left my notepad at my desk... and I've got to tell somebody! Fortunately Adria, the only secretary I’ve met with a sense of humor as sick as mine, was at her desk and looked completely offended by my story until I mentioned it was Tim, at which point I thought she was going to cry she was laughing so hard.

Apparently the hardest part of my story to believe was that I'd actually asked for toilet paper, she would've just waited.



Hope you guys got some hyucks out of this one, I know I sure did! Besides, if you can't laugh at yourself, you're probably just better than everybody else.