I have some of the nastiest co-workers. When you're in a bathroom, you can't help but hear other people's bodily functions. There are several different types of toilet-goers.
The chatter. No, I really don't want to talk to you at the urinal. I mean, seriously. When I have my johnson in my hand I lose the ability to talk.
The man who doesn't obey urinal etiquette. There are four urinals in the bathroom. The first person to enter must use the one farthest from the door. The second person must use the urinal farthest from the first person. If, God forbid, someone else comes in to the bathroom, they must either pretend to be busy looking at themselves in the mirror or take a stall. Do not under any circumstances stand right next to someone.
The cell-phone user. The mics on cell phones are very sensitive. The person you're talking to knows you're taking a leak. Or ever worse, a dump. I've heard people on their phones discussing business while letting out a trump so loud, one would expect rapture.
The filthy fucker who doesn't wash his hands, even after stall use. I know who you are and when I refuse to shake your hand, feel ashamed. Feel very ashamed.
And last, but not least, he who does not eat fiber. The resounding noise resembles somewhat a rabid castanet player or a malfunctioning automatic weapon.
Yuck. On so many levels, just yuck.
Update:
And being performed today in the bathroom, "Song of the Excited Duck", Movement #2.
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