Washing your hands: I’m not the smartest man out there, but I know not to eat shit. That’s why I wash my hands thoroughly after going to the restroom. I do a vigorous 30 seconds of lathering and rinsing, only to have it nullified by the dick heads that I work with. These assholes are either too lazy or too stupid to wash their hands, even after taking a dump. It’s fucking disgusting.
It always happens while I’m in the stall. Someone will come out, go to the sink skipping the soap, splash their hands under the water for about a second, as if that alone kills typhoid, then they go out spreading their shit all over the god damn place. On the door handles. Perhaps the coffee pot. Fuck, these sideways bastards probably put their shit on my desk and computer mouse.
I can never put a face to these people because it always happens while I’m in the stall. I decided to take a different route.
I printed out and posted a quick synopsis about typhoid mary. I put it above the soap dispensers in the three bathrooms that I can go in without getting fired. Sorry ladies, you’re on your own. One can only hope that the shit weasels see it and have second thoughts, or at least realize that they’re weird— and gross.
Parking Lots: The parking situation at my work is grim. I generally have to park in a neighboring parking lot because we have more employees than parking spots. The lot I park in is vast, it doesn’t even have lines. It’s a free-for-all.
There’s a jackass in a piece of shit Grand Am that always crowds my door, despite the fact that there’s a lot of free space. The other day it was so tight I thought I was going to have to crawl through the passenger door.
It crossed my mind to key the fuck out of the car, but what good would that do? The driver probably wouldn’t even notice it. Instead, I unscrewed the valve cap from the rear tire, put a small pebble from the parking lot in the valve stem, then reinstalled the cap. The tire was flat when I left work. Your move fucker!