FLOG

Continued Story

It was right around the time that I realized there was poo on my face that the carpenter starting cutting up the attic with a power saw.

Super. Here I just spent ten tremulous minutes preventing this onslaught from producing any sound above a whisper, and just as I'm done, some cover arrives.

Okay. Okay. So my timing is bad. So there's poo on my face. I am accepting this information. I am moving on. I have things need doing. I need to do them. I need to get out of here, and get back to my desk, and avoid eye contact for the rest of the afternoon.

I stood to wrap up, and, turning to review the latest damage, I found another doodad to add to my shame necklace. Back of the toilet seat done had a tea stain. A tea stain from me.

It was time to remember the triage principles. What needed attending to first?

Step one: sponge down the gentleness. Done.

Step two: wash hands. Done, thoroughly.

Step three: wash the HELL out of my face. Done.

Step four: attend to the tea stain. Aww hell. I wiped it down pretty thorough with a wet paper towel, but I still discerned faint yellowness remaining on the porcelain. FUCK, that was definitely not there when I came in. Now my coworker who just heard everything will instantly connect what she's heard to this stain, and any chance of a smooth working relationship based on mutual respect will, unlike this experience, go smoothly down the toilet.

I cast about the bathroom for a good cleaning product. The closet was packed to the gills with law office supplies, but no cleaners to be found. My eyes fixed upon the air freshener, and a moment several days earlier sprung from my memory:

FLOG's BOSS {leaning in FLOG's office door}: FLOG, what are all these handprint stains on your door jamb? Is it from you leaning in to your office?
FLOG: Why would I lean in the door of my own office?
FLOG'S BOSS: You tell me! Anyway, I'm going to clean them off. Let's see . . . cleaner. {walks away; returns with can of air freshener} Way I see it, if it's in a metal can, it cleans. {scrubs down door jamb with air freshener}

So, I sprayed down the toilet seat with air freshener, and let it sit awhile as I washed my face and hands again, and reset my pants and shirt in a professional-appearing manner. Turning back to the toilet seat, I wiped it down vigorously for 20 seconds or so. The stain faded a bit, but remained. I cursed, shrugged, and left the restroom, taking a course back to my office that would avoid all potential eye contact with anyone.

FIN

Epilogue

The tea stain is still there, kind of. A couple of weeks ago, returning from lunch in a similar manner, I felt a repeat performance brewing. I muttered a lie about going to city hall and fast-walked to a public restroom in a nearby park. Them public restrooms are neat!

Posted by FLOG at May 18, 2007 11:16 PM | TrackBack