Big Shout Out to the Big Guy

Firstly, gentle readers, I need to give a big shout out to the Big Guy who seems to enjoy my observational humor of late. I received a big step up in visitors over the weekend, normally a slow time of the week for me, from his links.

My office building, like most every other office building in the country, has handicapped access bathroom facilities. I think I have only used the handicapped stall once in over a year because the others were in uses and I had a really pressing need to go.

Anyway.

I was washing my hands this morning after a nasty battle with the new toner cartridge for my laser printer. The toner only got as far as my hands so that was minor inconvenience for me.

Laser toner, for those of you who have never had the joys of changing a cartridge, takes forever to wash off when you use regular rest room liquid soap. Strong bar soap is what you really need.

So there I was, hands all soapy, when a guy from the other tenant on the floor comes in with a gym bag over his shoulder and heads immediately to the handicapped stall. Obviously, he doesn't fit the usual parameters of being handicapped. I know; I have seen him play tennis, not very well mind you, the parking structure roof top court that my office overlooks. I was drying my hands when he came out, still in his normal office clothes.

I'm thinking; what does he do with the extra space? Why does he need the extra space?
I know there is extra space but the size of the fixture is still the same regardless of your motor ability. There is sufficient room in the regular stall as far as I can tell. I have gotten into the regular stall when I was carrying a raincoat, the computer case, and an attache case and still was able to do my business.

It can't be the extra leg room unless you want to spread your legs a whole bunch and that just sounds so very wrong for a guy.

I know these handicapped stalls have a nifty metal arm rest but it is so close to the wall that it can not function well as an arm rest. OK, maybe it can function for one arm but what do you do with the arm?

Scratch maybe?

I know there is not much of a need for the handicapped access on my floor right now. I haven't seen any men in wheel chairs or using crutches in over a year. We did have a guy who hobbled around for a couple of months with the broken foot but he never used the handicapped facility to my knowledge.

Maybe the guy with the gym bag thought he could avoid those nasty whiffs that are always drifting around places like this by using the bigger space.

Newsflash, there is no powered ventilation in the restrooms.

Ventilation is sort of hit or miss mostly so you can't avoid the nasty whiffs. They seep over and around the stall walls regardless of what tactics you may try to employ.

It's a lot like the fog in John Carpenter's The Fog. It is always present.

Moving right along now.

I called the Girl Friend today. She had missed me. It had been over a week since she spent time with me.

I told her about an Internet survey I had taken during lunch today. The survey was about men's attitudes towards erectile dysfunction. She laughed louder and louder as I went into some of the survey questions. The Girl Friend offered her own answers to some of the questions, most of which I don't want to reprint here. She made me stop because she was getting red and her employees were starting to stare at her.

All of her employees know we have a relationship and that I seem to make her very happy. One of the employees, who answered the phone when I called, asked why I didn't see her over the past weekend. I asked what made you think I didn't see her. The employee said the Girl Friend was in a crappy mood this morning.

Busted.

I said it was a Chuck only weekend. I needed some Chuck-time after spending four of the prior five weekends with the Girl Friend. I dont think the employee could possible see my point of view whatsoever here.

Life happens and I moved on which brings me to here tonight. I'm off to do other useful and productive things now.

Be well and stay happy.