Do You Poo in the Company Loo?
You doo doo you, boo!
Yes, we are talking about number 2’s today and NO, you cannot unsubscribe1. Hear me? You can handle it.
I haven’t worked from the office in years (thank you, Covid?) and one of the best perks of WFH is my own private facilities. While I’m what one might call “poop-friendly”, I'm not a huge fan of making “taking care of business” anyone else’s business. Fortunately I’m also what one might call “regular” and usually didn’t do much “business” during office hours (kind of like that pain in the ass coworker who blatantly watched movies at his desk, took two hour lunches, and complained about how busy he was. Yep! Still bitter!)
But guys on the other hand. Wow, man, just wow. When they gotta go, it goes something like this:
Grab a newspaper from the receptionist’s desk.
Poop
There was this one time at the office I noticed the third floor men’s bathroom was out of commission and an industrial fan was blocking the door.
“Hmm,” I mused. “That can’t be good.”
Jack, my co-worker, confirmed it.
“Nope, not good,” he said. “Guess I overloaded the system. When I flushed, the other four overflowed. It was nuts!”
“Solidarity!” I said, raising my fist in the air before jogging off to find a nice corner to vomit in. “No more microwave burritos for you, Jack!”
I get it— office pooping is a touchy (PLEASE WASH YOUR HANDS) subject. For those of you keeping it old-school and working from a public space like it's 2019, I have questions:
Do you or don’t you?
Should you or shouldn’t you?
IS there even a choice?
Me? I’d rather drive a half a mile to Ikea and drop my kids off at the Swedish wonderland’s pool rather than have someone who signs off on my expense reports hear, smell, or see what I just left in the company’s plumbing.
Most women prefer the comforts of their own latrines, but sometimes our bowels get a case of wanderlust and crave a change of scenery. Should you poo in your company’s loo, or really any public restroom, you’ll likely fall into one of these crap camps:
The Ninja- She is silent, she is deadly she is not moving a sphincter muscle until this place is empty. Most likely she’s taking up residence in the stall furthest from the door because of course no one can hear you when you’re all of seven feet away.
The Squatter: A variation of the Ninja, she has the determination and quad strength to wait you out. A trained Squatter can go all night. If there are other butts on seats, not even a team of Navy SEALs can free a turd from the bowels of a Squatter.
The Noise-Maker- Is it New Year’s freakin’ Eve in there? This pooper will employ a number of noisy tactics to distract from the job at hand. Tactics include but are not limited to:
shuffling of feet
clearing throat
coughing
nose blowing
sneezing
jiggling of toilet paper dispenser
excessive flushing
excessive rustling of feminine hygiene product wrappers
repeated jiggling of sanitary napkin waste bag
repeated slamming of sanitary napkin trash can lid
Ladies, none of us are fooling each other! We know what’s going down the drain in there! I ask you: Is it better to live under the guise of having the WORLD’S LOUDEST PERIOD than copping to a very natural, very normal morning brownie removal?
The Multi-Tasker- Is she trying to cover up the sound of splashing logs or really just too busy to take a call at her desk? Not sure, but depending on who she’s talking to, it’s the next best thing to enjoying the latest blind item on DeuxMoi. Nothing says “Respect” like “Hang on, I gotta flush.”
The Boss- She’s gonna leave a smear like she just don’t care and that’s because she doesn’t. This rectum warrior is all business and doesn’t give a shit who sees, hears, or smells her ass agenda. Like a boss, I tell you!
The Getaway Girl- Leave a message, Mother Nature! The Getaway Girl has no time for bodily functions. No way will The Getaway Girl be caught with her pants down. She’s in, she’s out, and she’s leaving floaters and skid marks in her wake.
Look, lady, I know you’d rather have that video of you dirty dancing to Love Shack at the company picnic go viral, but when something powerful enough to chip porcelain exits your body, you need to stick around for a double flush.
The Interval Trainer- Is it better to let it all out and bear the shame or keep it in and bear the pain? The Interval Trainer is a firm believer in savoring the moment meaning she’ll spread out every gurgle, blip, pffffft, and kersplash just to confuse the other occupants senses. Was that her shoe catching on the tile or a fart? Is the printer outside jamming again or is your stall mate squeezing an ass lemon? Wait. Was that her stomach or yours? Holy shit, your stall mate has you in a stalemate! You gotta get out of there!
Ladies, it's time we loosen up. Everyone poops. Shit happens. Live and let doodoo. Instead of hiding it, let's take pride in it. And then for goodness sake, flush it down. Twice.
XO,
Shelly
Readers Sound Off On This Post Immediately!
Shelly, ew. Did you have to write about poop? Grow up! You’re a middle-aged lady mom!
Short answer, yes, I did. It was inevitable. They say write what you know and I live with two boys so I know poop. And as I said I am “poop-friendly.” I come from poop-friendly stock. My dad once gave me a Valentine’s Day card that had an adorable teddy bear on a toilet proclaiming, “I love you so much I could shit.” Honestly I can’t believe I don’t write about poop every week.
Shelly, my goodness. Not your finest work. I expected more. Do better.
First question: Don’t you mean DOO BETTER? Hahhahahhahahha! BUTT come on, it was right there! I mean right SMEAR! Ahhhahahahahhaa! Second question: You expected more??? Why on Earth would you expect more!? This is exactly the kind of drivel you should expect here. I say YOU do better! Better research, that is!
Shelly, can we please go back to talking about MILFs?
I have news for you, bucko: everybody poops, EVEN MILFs. How do you like them now???
I asked my “advisors” if they would unsubscribe if I wrote about poop and they both said they would not. So here we are.
Thank you for writing about something we all doo but seldom want to talk about, unless YOU'RE MY HUSBAND, aka "Uncle Farty Pants" after his first introduction to my sister's family which included 2 nieces and 5 grand kids. My neicedowned an emaculant mansion that had a home movie theater with leather recliners. So we're all watching the romantic end of a movie where the only sound was romantic music and a slurpy kiss. And at that Prime moment, he decided to let out a bellowing FART that reverberated throughout the mini theater and left a lovely first impression with everyone present. You should've seen our pastor squirm when we discussed this (and another very public wind-passing event) in our premarital counseling meetings. And the funny thing is, and I'm NOT kidding, that I actually prayed and asked God to send me a husband who is comfortable enough about himself to fart in front of me. After spending 5 years with a man who NEVER ONCE farted in front of me, I felt he was being fake and hiding his true self from me (because, like pooping, everyone farts). And I was right. He was a two timer who cheated on me. So God, in His mercy and wisdom, blessed me with a super fatter, and God is still up there smiling at His answer to my prayer! I hope that you write an investigative post of farting, the prelude to a poop.
You went there and you found the funny. Nice work!