Taguchi’s Guide to the Shared Office Bathroom (Part 1)

I’ve been busy and a little off the radar lately, but I have to squeeze this one in. My office shares a private bathroom with a couple other floors in our building. I would estimate that there are approximately 30-50 men on 2-3 floors who share this bathroom (with 3 stools and urinal). It requires a push-button code to get in so it’s not open to the public (as if the fact that it’s on the 7th floor of an office building isn’t good enough).

I’ve only had this job for 4 months, but I have literally dozens of bathroom stories…but the greatest of all took place today. Most folks understand the value of having a private toilet experience. I knew a guy in college who bucked this trend and would go throughout our fraternity house looking for someone to go double-barrel in our 2-stall main bathroom. He referred to this as a “power shit,” but I digress.

I had worked out a system to avoid too many embarrassing moments in the can. For example, you don’t want people knowing that it was you who bombed the place out or made those disgusting movements, noises or releases while they were sharing your jon space (I know, it’s absurd…that’s where you go to do those things). I usually run up there when I know I’m good and ready to go. I keep it short, flush twice and clean up the aftermath quickly. Then I go to the urinal (don’t like to go sitting down), wash up and roll out. I can do all of this in about 2 minutes. If someone else happens to join me while I’m getting it done, so be it. I can’t control everything. There will be times that you are either on the giving or receiving end of a total missile launch in passing, and that’s unavoidable. But, still, I like to get in and out and try to keep it respectable. If it’s going to be nuclear, I wait til I get home (for lunch or end of day).

I realized today that I’ve got it all wrong. This afternoon I rolled into said work station to handle a simple numero uno and immediately noticed feet beneath the door at the end of the row of 4 stalls. I took note and went to do my thing with the attitude of “too bad…I interrupted that guy’s private moment…sucks for him.” Within 4-6 seconds of my entry, I heard the loudest, most reverberating series of 3 whole note toilet farts I had ever experienced. It sounded like Adam Jones’ guitar (which to me sounds like a plane taking off). The impact rattled my cage and probably blurred my vision for a moment. I mean these things modulated, starting at a distinct bass clef pitch, then down a half-step, then back up. And that’s when it hit me…suddenly I realized that I was the one who had been put on the defensive. I found myself racing to get outta there. No way did I want to encounter the monster with the black loafers behind that stall door…and I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait for the smell to waft it’s way over. I finished up, washed hands and bolted. This guy earned his moment of solitude.  I can’t even try to steal his material, it was so good…and trust me, he HAD TO KNOW I was there.

Here’s to you, Mr. Blackloafers…I will NEVER forget you.

5 thoughts on “Taguchi’s Guide to the Shared Office Bathroom (Part 1)

  1. So when you say: “I keep it short, flush twice and clean up the aftermath quickly. Then I go to the urinal (don’t like to go sitting down), wash up and roll out” does that mean you are able to stop the flow in front while letting it all release out the back?

    Can you teach me how?

  2. A few things…

    I try as a general rule to take a #2 or a #2.5 at home if at all possible. I would say that I take less than 4 of those public a year at most… if you are on the other end of one of those, that means there was no chance of avoiding it and it is coming NOW. Not sure why I offered that up. Additionally giving upper-deckers at opposing fraternity houses or deucing in a bathroom that has a view directly into a hot girl’s dorm room upped my public output to 50+ per season over my four’ish years college campaign.

    Next I know (and Bro knows) a guy named Moe that unleashes fury every time he saddles up… each toot, blast, or soupy trumpet he lets loose he accompanies it with an “excuse me” and may even curse the devil out loud. I may try to audio tape a portion of his 45min sessions so that everyone can appreciate it.

    I enjoy browsing for the shoes I see below the stall and give them props if I see them after their work. I call this “star gazing”.

    Lastly… I find something really weird about you breaking up your deuce and tinkle… let me rephrase that… I don’t find that weird, because it makes sense… HOWEVER if I was locked into a porcelain struggle and pieced together someone doing that 2-part maneuver in the bathroom with me, I would put that “person” on blast right here on the Trump.

  3. Adam Jones is the guitarist for Tool.

    It’s not so much that I “break up” the single and the double, and I definitely don’t have the type of control that Dr. Sich Freun suggests. As you will recall, “I usually run up there when I know I’m good and ready to go,” so I jump on the throne right away. (NOTE: I forgot to mention that the most critical move in all this is to tuck your tie into your shirt immediately upon entry to the stall). I don’t give the single any attention whatsoever until the deuce is complete. It may happen concurrently with the deuce, but it’s more the case that I have unfinished business when I’m done with the deuce (rather than “breaking them up”). So I just stroll 7 feet down to the #1-ing place rather than push my luck at the #2-ing place. The #2-ing place always includes the risk of extra clean-up. I would never run this entire fire drill with Mr. Blackloafers (or anyone else) in the room. I would just stay put and stand up.

    I feel bad for the women who could never appreciate the process of choosing a toilet vs. a urinal. Of course, if it’s Bennigan’s it doesn’t matter.

  4. I was going to respond to this before I even read “Thro(ne)-Taguchi’s” last comment.

    I always thought it was kind of funny that dudes were the ones who were most finnicky about where they sit down to do business when not at home. (Hell, I know one person – *cough* Fessy! *cough* – who will only shit at Prairie Lights Bookstore if downtown.

    But given the willingness with which you guys will whip out your dick or…rod or…’Johnson’ in public and will whiz when- and wherever there is something that might be used as a target, what is the big deal about sitting down to drop a deuce? Is it because someone might hear you? That’s weak. Is it because toilet seats might be dirty? Hike up your panties and wipe off the rim before you sit down.

    Or is it because pooping (unlike peeing) is somehow an intensely personal and private matter? Now this I can sort of understand. Smelly stuff coming out of your butt seems like something you want to keep “under wraps.” But, shit: BE MEN. You love to talk about shitting (this post is case-in-point), farting, fucking, vomiting, burping, and Terrell Owens, so put your money (in this case, your ass) where your mouth is and OWN THAT SHIT.

    Griff, for one, can poop wherever (so long as there’s a toilet). I just store that shit up until it’s good and ready and then I let loose. Anyone next to me better recognize.

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