what do you need to know, are you looking for advice here?
Anyone go in to take 5 on the jacks without having a dump, just a pi*ss and mess about on the phone? However, when you have to depart, there happens to be other people in the other cubicles so you have to perform a few phantom wipes to let on to the other guy that you’ve been in there for the proper reason of a barry white.
Yes.
Eh, no.
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Jaysus, I got an awful fright there walking into the toilets on our floor. As I walked in, the toilet was in darkness as it takes a couple of seconds for the sensor on the light to detect movement and come on. I perceived this figure come out of one of the cubicles in the darkness, sacred the shite out of me. The light came on and there was some bloke who works on another floor. I can only surmise that he was in the cubicle perusing TFK or some such for some length of time that the light automatically went off when it didn’t detect any movement.
Useless fucker spending his working day on the INTERNET in the jacks. More importantly, my jacks, I am very put out when other people use it.
Without reading back through the thread, is there a recommended ratio of shitters to employees? We currently have about 80 staff on the floor (Lets say 60 males) with 3 shitters, and 2 pissers available. I think we are dreadfully under facilitated in this department but have little other resources available against which to benchmark my concerns.
Surely 20 men to a shitter is some sort of breach of the UN Human Rights charter? I’ve often walked in to be greeted with 3 shut doors, and an unspeakable stench. I’ve now tailored my movements to avoid peak hours (9am - 9.50am and 2.15pm - 3pm).
This has often happened me (lights go off whilst recapping on the previous night’s TFK activities) but i’d never be so utterly fucking clueless to be caught out like that. If the light’s go off, they need to be triggered back on with a free passage to the exit before I’d commence wiping.
Jesus, those call centres sound like awful places altogether.
I’ll tell you what Fitzy, the fitout to the floor was only completed at Easter and has won all sorts of awards since. In fairness, it’s a ridiculously swanky office designed to seduce clients. We clearly hadn’t any funds in the budget to look after back of house though
Dreadful from your HR department mate, but none of us would be surprised with that. I had a similar situation in another place in Sydney, very similar amounts of people on one floor to what you have. So I used to go upstairs and shite in the exec bathroom, which was highly frowned upon, but given my famous temper and the fact that senior management were scared shitless of me, I never had any hassle. Ingratiate yourself with the big knobs mate, use their facilities, I’m sure they don’t have the same situation.
Even the atheist runs back to the sacred arms of his God when his mortality is challenged
One of my early jobs (excuse the pun) involved cleaning the bogs which the public had access to so I will be coming at this topic from another angle, if you’ll excuse another pun. As you can imagine I have seen some sights. Let me end the myth that women are dirtier than men. They’re not, I can’t think of a beast that could be dirtier than man. Every time I went to survey the state of the loos there was always a sense of pending doom. As Forrest would have said, my life was like a box of chocolates albeit a different type of chocolate and I did not know what I was going to get.
One particular time stands out in the memory and will forever be a stain on this once innocent and now fragile mind. The first sign that trouble was ahead was when the door was closed but unlocked. Seat down was another worrying sign. However on this particular occasion the seat down could not hide the devastation that was visited on this particular cubicle. A tsunami of poo had decorated the cubicle. My first question was not why, it was “how”. If Michelangelo had painted with shit then this would have been his Sistine Chapel. Shaking my head as I went to get the kango and power hose to clean this shitstorm up my look of shock must have been visible as a colleague asked if I was ok. I shook my head and having been rendered speechless from the trauma I had just witnessed, motioned him towards the loos. His first question was also “how?”
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Cool story bro’
Alcohol really does brings out the worst in lads.
I had the misfortune to be absolutely busting for a piss at about mile 18 in the London marathon. I queued for a toilet. As I was about to enter, an Australian lady exited with the words “it’s not very nice in there”
I cannot begin to imagine quite how poo managed to be spattered all over the cubicle, above eye level. It was so repulsive that I jogged the last eight miles with my bladder at my nipples. Whomever said that the law of gravity could not be defied has never entered a marathon jacks.
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Just went to the jacks there, there’s blood all over the bowl of the cubicle I normally partake of. Blood. FFS, some lads need a good fucking kick up the hole for themselves so they do.
(Unless it was a bird with some sort of symbol dyslexia who got caught short).
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Maybe a kick in the hole led to the bleeding
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In September 2002 (I think it was the Tuesday after Armagh beat Kerry in the All-Ireland final) I was in Dublin city centre and needed a pee. I nipped into the McDonalds at the bottom of Grafton Street. The toilets at that time were situated downstairs from the ground floor. I prefer to go to a cubicle if possible, one of the cubicle doors was closed but not locked so I pushed it in. I was greeted with the sight of the three walls in front of me literally covered in shit from the floor to the ceiling. I roared in anguish and made a quick getaway back onto Grafton Street. It was May 2004 before I set foot in that McDonalds again, by which time the toilets had been re-located upstairs. Either way, I was never going to set foot inside that downstairs toilet again.
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In school a chap had a shit in his hands one day and daubed it all over the wall of the jax. War broke out between the members of the staff fraternity and the student body. Beatings were administered but we never offered up the culprit although we all knew who it was and we were disgusted by his behaviour. The chap came from a dysfunctional family and later developed a terrible drug problem.