Dear Public Poopers

There is something about hearing the kerplunk of poop hitting the toilet bowl in the stall next to you.  It’s a strange invasion of privacy that you can’t actually stray from or cover-up.  It’s especially awkward when you have to wash your hands next to the person, avoiding eye-contact because you know if you look in to their eyes, there is that little flicker of I-know-what-you-were-doing-in-there.
Shouldn’t they at least have the decency to hide in the stall until the other person exits?  I’m sorry, doing your hair and make-up and the “mirror-dance” when you check all angles in one thing.  These are things girl’s restrooms are accustomed to.  But pooping is a totally different thing.  If you’re going to poop in public, ladies, at least pinch it when someone else is right next to you.

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4 comments

      1. There are certain stall characters at work, who I don’t know (I’ve intentionally avoided encountering their identity), yet know by sound.
        They include the newspaper reader and the texter (how he still has a phone with buttons and not a smart phone I’ll never know, let alone why he saves his texting for the toilet).

    1. The newspaper reader! That’s my dad! He wakes up a half-hour early just to read the paper on the toilet. However, he’s a decent man and as far as I know, doesn’t take his home-habits to work.

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