Bathroom etiquette (or lack thereof) in the work place
I work in corporate America amongst many professionals. One would think that the topic of bathroom etiquette would be a moot point. And I tell you my friend, you are oh-so-wrong. The things I have experienced in bathrooms during my eight years of working cannot be shared on this blog. I can, though, share the number one thing I struggle to understand about bathroom behavior at work. When there are 10 open stalls, WHY WHY WHY WHY does a person choose the stall NEXT to me? There is no need for us to share a wall. There is no need for us to sit this close. Bathroom time is private time. When I walk in and see that one out of ten stalls is occupied, I select the stall FURTHEST from the current occupant. This is called “being respectful” of personal space during a personal time.
People who record entire concerts on their cell phone
There’s not much I love more than being at a concert, beer in hand, listening to live music. Now, the thing I love about live music and being at a concert is that I get to see the band with my own two, LASIK-surgically enhanced, eyes. I did NOT pay money to watch the concert via the screen of an iPhone. Now I get it if you want to snap a photo here and there. I just do not understand why someone insists on holding the phone up, directly in MY line of sight, recording and taking photos during the entire concert. I mean, how do you even really enjoy the concert if you have a full time job as the camera man? I’d also love to know, what exactly are you planning to do with that footage? Are you going to go home and watch that over and over again? Are you going to frame those pics? Let’s be real here – you and I both know that five-minute video is going to sit on your phone, taking up precious megabytes, until your phone says your storage is full. Maybe just be in the moment an enjoy the concert that you paid money to see. Hm?
We’ve all done it. We’re all guilty. You are walking along and you see that empty can on the sidewalk. I cannot ignore it. I will pick that garbage up. I probably do this because as kids one of our chores was “Casey’s Patrol”. Next to the Ralph O. Jones Funeral Home was Casey’s General Store. It was a gas station. Along with a gas station comes lots of naughty little litterbugs throwing all sorts of trash on the ground. It seems there was a constant south-blowing breeze in the area because all the trash tumbled towards the funeral home. So once a week, you could find my brother and I carrying grocery sacks and picking up all the little bits of garbage that ended up in it’s final resting place amongst the funeral home landscaping (ah, you see what I did there?). It was repulsive, but EFFECTIVE. First of all, I have never ever wanted to even-so-much-as touch a cigarette because my beautiful, ladylike fingers have picked up thousands of cigarette butts and filters. You think Harpo sent us out there with gloves on? Heck no. He knew the experience would scar us for life. And, as usual, that grumpy (but wise) man was right.
And now to this day, I’m always picking up litter. My sophomore year at SLU I attended some kind of welcome–back-to-school bbq. There were free bottles of water and soda. I saw the trash bins overflowing with plastic bottles and it gave me such bad anxiety that I found a janitor and got giant trash bags. You best believe I went dumpster diving and saved all that plastic. My roommate was annoyed, but supportive, that I brought hundreds of bottles back to our dorm room. It was pretty gross pouring out all the leftover liquid. But I persevered and drove all those puppies to the recycling holy ground. Um yeah, Harpo, I’d say I took Casey Patrol to heart. At work, I collect my coworkers recyclable items and bring them home to put in our recycling bin (this way I know the job is getting done). Serious as a heart attack – I dug plastic bottles out of my Sr. Director’s trash bin. Dean looked in my car one day and saw a huge trash bag full of recycle and said “Good God, why is there garbage in your car?” Correction Dean. That is NOT garbage, it is recycling. I get that most people won’t be this extreme, but how can you walk through a parking lot and NOT pick up a glass bottle that is sitting there just waiting to puncture a tire and ruin someone’s day?
Ah well, I’ll probably never understand these things. I’ll just keep wearing my confused expression asking “WHY?” in my head. Oh mysteries of life. You do puzzle me.