Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust

I work in an office that is mostly women, so when I have to use the bathroom it is pretty likely that I won't be alone in there.    I may not like it, but I've long ago come to grips that privacy in the toilet isn't a thing to expect when I'm anywhere but at home . . . and often not there either between the cat knocking on the door to be let in or the hubby shouting out a comment on something that  couldn't possibly wait until I'm done.  But that's a whole other thing.


What I'm getting at is that some people have unusual bathroom habits.  One of THE most annoying I've already wrote a commentary on . . . and that is people who feel the need to chat on the phone while they're going potty.  I won't get into that again.

What I don't understand is the women who come into the bathroom who flush the toilet first thing . . . I'm talking as soon as they enter the stall.  You may argue that perhaps the last person to use the toilet failed to flush when they were done doing their duty (or doodie, as it were).  But I really don't think that's the case. I walk by those toilets on the way to my preferred stall . . . yeah, I have one and it's the one furthest from the door; it's as close to privacy as I can get . . . and I have never ever seen an unflushed toilet before.  I suppose I might pre-flush if there are skid marks in the bowl . . . 

Keep in mind that this happens in a well-maintained office building that they work in and where they use the facilities many times a day, where there is no reason to suppose things aren't working right.  So what I don't get is why are they flushing first?


I can't even say that they're doing it to mask the sound of their . . . uhm . . . bodily functions.  Because the flush happens before they do anything. Before the door is even latched.  Before they've even dropped their drawers to tinkle.   

I'm thinking that maybe . . . just maybe . . . they want really clean water in the case of back splash. I suppose it's possible that germs could splash up.  But I also don't see how that extra flush could disinfect the toilet.  Think about it . . . if the bowl already looks clean because the previous user flushed, and then you flush it again, how much cleaner is it really? 



Perhaps it goes back to some childhood thing . . . like when mommy would turn on the water in the bathroom to help you go.  It's a known fact that the sound of running water increases urgency in some people.


Meh . . . 


And don't get me started on the people who put toilet paper on the seat so they don't have to touch the seat but then they leave the toilet paper there . . . because apparently it's okay for you to touch their germ-infested toilet paper to remove it. 


That is all . . . moving on.  

Firewater Friday - Malibu Dreams

A pet peeve of mine is people who wear pajamas and/or slippers out in public.  It is the epitome of laziness . . . it looks slovenly and trashy.  Isn’t sloth one of the deadly sins?

People who are guilty of committing the deadly sin of sloth are punished in hell by being thrown into snake pits. I really don't see a connection between sloth and snakes. Why not make them get out of bed, take a shower and dress in appropriate clothing?

I am by no stretch of the imagination a fashionista; I’m a jeans and sneakers gal through and through.  But I would never entertain the thought of leaving the house without being dressed.  I won’t even take the garbage out wearing my slippers.  It just isn’t done.

I see it nearly everywhere I go; the grocery store, the bank, on the sidewalk.  People in fuzzy slippers, in bathrobes . . . I think pajama bottoms stuffed into Ugg boots might be the worst.  It drives me absolutely bonkers!

Even as a child it bothered me . . . women going about their errands with curlers piled high on their head and wearing a housecoat . . . stressing housecoat . . . you know for wearing inside the house.    I always thought the point of putting rollers in your hair was to make it look nice . . . why in the world would you go out in public looking like that?  I just don’t get it.

And, now it seems as though it’s becoming publicly acceptable to roll out of bed and stroll out the front door without so much as a glance in a mirror.  Sloppy sloppy sloppy. 

I don’t necessarily give a hoot what people think about me.  However, I do care about what *I* think about me and I won’t go out looking like Oscar Madison on laundry day with a raging hangover.  Denim and cotton may not be fancy but it’s neat and clean and presentable.

For the love of Pete, unless you’re Hugh Heffner, having a medical emergency or a baby put some freakin’ clothes on when you leave the house!

  

In California, it is illegal for women to drive while wearing a house coat.  Just sayin’ . . .

Malibu is in California . . . 

Malibu Dreams


3 shots Malibu rum (or Bacardi)
1 splash Grenadine syrup
Fill with 7-Up (or any lemon-lime soda)


Mix Malibu and Grenadine together. Fill with soda.  This drink should have a just a blush of pinkness.