Why were you in the ladies toilets?
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Lots of them. Iâm actually not all that precious about where I shite.
*GAA stadia a notable exception.
There is only one place to be taking a shite, on your own throne. Those who need to use other venues lack discipline.
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I knew a fella who never took a shit in school in his entire life. Serious discipline for a young buck.
You must get awful impacted on holidays.
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Thatâs one of the all time great posts around these parts. 
Any update on your interactions with the âPhantom squeezerâ since?
Iâd have liked a bit more information on his identity. Was he a senior employee, a young buck, weirdo janitor type?
Agreed. I had it in mind he was the top man, an important man, in the office all along. I had a similar experience myself when i used to work part time in a hotel when i was a young fella. There was toilets away from the main thoroughfare (reception area) that were ultra quiet and rarely used, and also as a result of this i guess, were always very clean. Anyway myself and this other shitter got into a phase where we used to cross paths most days. Iâd be in one trap and iâd hear him go into another trap. Or heâd already be in one trap as i walked in, it was happening most days.
Unlike the âPhantom squeezerâ he was very quiet and it was like he wanted no-one to know his dirty little secret that he used to go for a sly, quiet shit every day in the quiet bathroom. He would always wait for me to depart first, despite he might have been in there before me, so as not to give away his identity. It often developed into a battle of wills to see who would blink first and exit their trap, both sitting in silence, but he had something to hide and would have waited there until the end of time it seemed to protect his identity. I used to see the same shoes through the six inch gap from floor to tile and therefore had suspicions about who it might be, and the shoes was also how I knew it was the same person i was overlapping with daily on our respective shit runs.
One day anyway i decided iâd catch him in the act to confirm my suspicions with facial identification, as he was far too cunning to give the game away and emerge while i was still in the toilet. So i left one day with him still in-situ and quiet as a church mouse like he always was, and I hid in a room across the gang-way with a clear line of sight to the bathroom, which had that frosted glass that you can see out of but not in. Lo and behold not long after i left he emerges from the jacks, takes a glance left and right while holding the door, and then briskly walks off like he hadnât been in there a half an hour at all. It was none other than the hotel manager himself. I could never take him seriously after that.
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Did you ever consider he was going in there to jerk off?
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No i never considered that. He was married so i assumed he wouldnât need to go into male jacks around midday each day to tug himself off with other punters shitting a few feet away.
Hotel management is a high pressure job, be like stockbrokers.
Youâre not married then?
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Own up yis cunts, who robbed it?
Toilet made out of gold stolen from palace in England https://jrnl.ie/4809668
I was at a dinnerparty in Flattys last night and guess what I saw
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Being married is a perfect reason to find yourself tossing off far more often. Youâll learn soon enoughâŚ
Is that on a ferry?
There is around 35 people or so on my office floor, we have two modest enough bathrooms. The gents has two urinals and two cubicles.
Everyday in the late morning a cleaner comes and gives the place a once over. She is a woman in her late 50s with a fairly dead eyed look about her.
The issue I have is that she does not knock when coming into cleaning the mens toilet. She just pops her head in and if you are at the urinal she will wait at the door until you are finished before c.oming in. But if you are at the sink she will just start mopping around you.
But the real kicker in all this is if you are unfortunate enough to be in one of the stalls having a shit. She doesnât knock or even announce herself so you are just sitting there mid shit and next thing you hear is the main door open followed by the sound of mopping a few seconds later. It is utterly bizarre that once you finish up you have to exit the stall and she will invariably look to make eye contact and make small talk before heading straight for the stall you just vacated to give it a mopping before you have your hands washed and are out the door.
I am still trying to figure out what her deal is.
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Itâs her jobâŚ
Much like yourself in the stall, sheâs getting shit done.
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the poor fucking womanâs job is to clean up after you take a shit and youâre questioning when and how she does it, you prick