Technology & MSG

For the most part, trips to the bathroom are uneventful. That is, people go in and take care of their personal business and leave, hopefully washing their hands on the way out. Today was a bang up day for restroom weirdness at the office. I observed two uncommon behaviors while taking care of my own business.

Despite numerous signs advising not to dump food or coffee grinds down the sink, there was an older gentleman audibly considering emptying the contents of a Little Dipper Crock Pot down the sink. He felt to the need to explain to me that the miniature stoneware marvel was full of queso cheese. Indeed, the contents were a lovely yellow that resembled cheddar cheese, complete with a film of untouched and cooled cheese around the edges. Based on my somewhat limited knowledge of queso cheese, everything he had told me appeared to be true. He then considered — still audibly, apparently for my benefit — and further decided to dump it down the toilet instead, saying that it would probably go down easier that way. Why he didn’t scoop it into the trashcan is completely beyond my scope of reasoning.

As a general rule, there are certain rules of etiquette when you’re standing at a urinal. One of those rules is that you aren’t supposed to pay attention to the gentlemen standing at the other urinals. Under no circumstances are you to speak to them. Acceptable behaviors would include reading (if there’s a newspaper tacked to the wall), spelling your name as if the bowl were full of snow, gazing down at the distorted reflection of your face in the urinal valve, or possibly even whistling. I’ve seen some pretty disturbing feats performed in the restroom before, but today’s incident takes the cake.

Peripheral vision is one of those things that comes naturally to many. Though partially obscured by the urinal dividers, my eyes were privy to a display that I had never seen at set of office urinals before. Without turning to look I probably would have dismissed what I had seen out the corner of my left eye, except I heard something that confirmed what I thought I had seen. I heard a rhythmic sound emanating from the next urinal stall over. It was continuous in nature and almost vicious at times, and it continued for the duration of my standing there.

The man — standing at the urinal — was brushing his teeth with his right hand, no doubt while holding onto his member with the other.

Now I’ve seen people come into the restroom and brush their teeth after lunch. I don’t do it despite what my dentist no doubt recommended at some point, but I see no problem with it. I do have difficulty believing that there are people in the world who lack sufficient time or inclination to dedicate separate periods of time to each activity, especially at the office.

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