Let me vent about a horrible little BASTARD at my work-place…this piece of shit, urghhhh – look alright, I’m sorry and everything, but this simply has to be said. I can’t put it off any longer, and I can’t let this kind of behaviour slide for one second more! I just can’t let it pass! After all, if I don’t say anything then no one will! Not a single soul! It’s almost like I’m the only one who cares!
Who am I talking about you wonder? Which spawn of satan is it I speak of? Which horrendous beast from the darkest depths of a man’s nightmares?!
THAT’S RIGHT PEOPLE, IT IS NONE OTHER THAN A LEAKY URINAL!
It taunts me every single day – without fail. It invites me into it’s little area, makes me feel welcome – tells me I am the only one…which is actually strictly true as I am the only male in the entire office! But then just as I am in one of the most relaxing states a man can achieve, it splutters, and spits all over me…leaving me doing a little two step jig to try and avoid the messy spray of the damn thing!
So naturally afterwards it looks as if I have no control over my…well you know. I come out of the bathroom littered with drips all over my shoes, and lower half. I am forced to cling to the walls, walk backwards…anything to make being found out more difficult…
Excuse the pun, but it’s not like I can come clean – “Hey, don’t you hate that urinal in there girls? Right…RIGHT?! I mean it LOOKS like I have peed all over myself, but actually it’s the toilets fault…”
“Yeah, yeah…whatever you say…” they would reply, thinking it was one of those thou doth protest too much moments. Fucking Shakespeare, you ruined it for other guys you terrible prick!!
Anyway, it’s taken me a year of this nightmare (trying to dodge the sensor, trying to wear darker clothes, trying to not care that it looks like I’ve pissed all over my shoes) to realise I could just use the proper toilet, and avoid the fuss altogether. I guess I must like a challenge or something, or I’m a complete idiot. The latter is more likely.