A few months ago, my department was moved downstairs as we were merged in with another similar department. Now we all sit in the same place. Our new surroundings are in the basement, as befits our status. Engineers do not need daylight, and are not to be allowed to have it. We are so deep in the basement that Bakerloo line trains cause an audible rumble through the walls every few minutes. We’ve calculated that they might actually be slightly above our floor level.
One interesting feature of the sub-basement where we have been hidden away, as though we are some sort of embarassment, is the shortage of toilet facilities. It’s almost like this floor was designed for apparatus rooms and storage areas, and the idea that teams of people might spend their lives down there wasn’t considered by the architects.
That leaves me with a choice of three sub-optimal toilets, as follows.
- Toilet One is a single cubicle, self-contained with a sink and hand dryer, located a short walk from our room, but close to other rooms where people work so it’s often busy. If you flush the toilet the sink tap stops running, so you have to wash your hands before you flush or (more often) you forget to wash your hands before you flush so you then stand there for several minutes waiting for the cistern to slowly refill before you can get a trickle of water on your hands.
- Toilet Two is another single self-contained cubicle, not much further away, but located at a little kitchen area where people come to make tea. From inside the cubicle you can hear everything people say and do at the kitchen, and I know from experience that people in the kitchen can hear everything that happens in the toilet cubicle. I don’t like that at all. Once I sat in there for the whole time it took someone to make a round of tea because I didn’t want them to hear me having a poo.
- Toilet Three is yet another self-contained cubicle, and technically a disabled toilet with one of those seats that feels a bit higher up than it should be. The automatic tap makes a massive noise when you wash your hands, like a siren going off to alert anyone nearby to the fact that you’re using a disabled toilet. It’s a long walk away from the room where I work on the other side of two security doors. Someone once came out of it when I was approaching to go in who gave me a really angry look.
I haven’t yet decided which of these is the least worst, but please keep me in your thoughts as I struggle to find somewhere satisfactory to go for a wee at work.
18 comments on “Where to wee”
If only that there Kevin was still building things he could have built you a bog. With a fancy doily and everything.
A bog with a doily would be the daintiest, most refined bog I ever whizzed in. What a dream. Maybe I’ll see if I can get him to come in to work and knock one up next time he’s in London.
Knock one up? Hasn’t he done that twice already?
I expect all the bogs in Kev’s house are as dainty as anything. He needs to come in to work and make me a couple like that.
Oh yeah, he’s a massive dainty. Everything about him is dainty. Have you ever seen him walk off to make you a drink? He’s practically skipping.
I have seen him walk off to make me a drink, and I’ve seen him bring a doily with the cup so the drink has something dainty to rest on.
I haven’t seen this much mincing since Morton Mousetrap made a mincemeat memorandum.
Is daintiness necessarily minciness? I’m not convinciness.
Look, you’re either dainty like a fig roll or you’re toxic masculinity. You can’t be both, except Kev, who seems to straddle the line between the two. How he does it still baffles members of the scientific community.
Kevin Hill, Science Master, IS the scientific community. He can do what he likes with his toxic mincing and his dainty masculinity.
So in order for the scientific community to fully check how Kev does it he would have to inspect himself? I’m not sure you can do that. That sounds very similar to one of those checks you do for prostate cancer in the shower when you’re on your own…
That’s exactly what he’d have to do. Check himself out, top to bottom and inside out. Yes. That’s the science way.
That doesn’t seem very science-y. It seems a bit more pervy.
Can he not get a second opinion from someone else, like a qualified scientific doctor of some sort? Are they a real thing?
A doctor of science? Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s a thing. Are you saying you think Kev should get someone else to investigate his ass?
Doctor of science, doctor of ass, whatever is necessary to ensure that he keeps his “business” away from us.
I’m no longer sure what Kev is meant to be investigating, but I agree that if it involves what seems to be a small army of doctors and masters of various professions probing his ass, one after the other in some kind of sordid circus, that is something that does need to be kept as far from us as possible, if only for the sake of our good standing in the community.
Sounds about right *thumbs up*
Ooo poor choice of words there, Ian.
I expect they mainly use their index fingers.