Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
Anyway let's get right to it,
The Thursday afternoon cup of coffee tickled my bowels and leaving my cubicle, I made my way to the bathroom on the floor below to avoid and embarrassing run ins. I dropped my pants and plopped down in my usual Thursday afternoon stall, fifth one, all the way on the left. This stall was in some ways my home and I taken it upon myself to look after it, bringing with me each time I went to use the bathroom a small “Graffiti lift off” spray bottle that I had stored under my desk. Whatever sexual cartoon or vile midlife spewing that had been drawn onto my grey wall was no match for the heavy duty graffiti remover, and over time I had started taking pleasure in thwarting peoples attempts to deflower my sanctuary.
Well this is one of the most eloquent starts I've seen for something describing a bathroom of all places. This is certainly quite the start here. Its not the most exciting of start but just the sheer combination of a bathroom being shown so eloquently is making me intrigued enough to continue reading here, so let's see where this thing manages to take us here.
I made my way down the ninth floor bathroom, bowels absolutely tingling. This afternoon bathroom break had somehow become a pivotal part of my Thursday routine, without it, the balance of my day would be completely thrown off. Swinging open the thick blue door, I stood, hands on hips, ready to overcome whatever obstacles dared pop up during my(approximate) four minuets spent within the stall. Confidently I strode past the first stall, second stall, third stall, I stopped dead in my tracks. Staring up at me from the fifth stall, MY STALL, were two pale, hairless, completely naked feet. I was dumb-founded, this was breaking every rule there was. The same unspoken law book that stated that the eleventh floor bathroom, the one with the window looking out over central park, was for corporate execs, also stated that the fifth stall on the ninth floor bathroom belonged to Ryan Weiss, middle management. I kept my composure, not wanting to rattle the barefooted man while he was having a serene moment, I gently knocked on the stall door. I waited for a response, ten seconds, fifteen seconds, nothing. This was a problem I
thought scratching my head, a bathroom break any longer than ten minuets was considered time theft, and I must have already been down here for three or four minuets. Banging again on the door, this time a little harder, I was met once again with no response. I had no choice, I opened the door to the fourth stall and plopped down.
Okayy it seems like there's some rather strong bathroom etiquette on this particular one here. We've got this person really getting into it there to describe how things are meant to be going. Its definitely quite intriguing to see how this is all playing out here. I didn't expect to be quite this transfixed by such a serious story set in bathroom, but here we are.
“I have a good view of the bastards feet.” I thought. I had lost track of time, I must have stolen over fifteen minuets, what amazed me though was the man, who’s toenails were painted hot pink, still hadn’t moved."
Resigned acceptance seemed like the only good option there given the scenario and it is what we got after all. I don't know if I should be happy its realistic in that sense and still just cackle or be slightly annoyed that we've got all that build up to pretty much nothing towards the end. At any rate this was one of the most interesting stories I've read about a bathroom.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
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