Easy 10
Brain dead MUG SHEEP
The toilet on our floor only has 2 traps, and I really cannot ABIDE defecating next to someone. The noises and smells of the anonymous “partner in crime” in that kind of proximity really is too much for me to take, so I always descend two floors to enjoy the decadent, spacious luxury of the handicapped toilet on the ground floor.
It truly is LUDICROUSLY large – you could comfortably fit a poorly parked Renault Kangoo in there and still have room to spare. You also have a comfortable armrest on the left, which is perfect for a casual “lean” when having a browse on Twitter (the office wi-fi is still in range 2 floors down, which is quite impressive).
Earlier this year, I went in and a load of tiles had mysteriously fallen off the wall and smashed all over the floor (I have no idea how, or why, but I was not involved). This led to an “OUT OF ORDER” sign being put on the door. Naturally I ignored this sign, as the toilet itself was still in perfect working order. And for about 2 months I was completely free of the mild disappointment (or worry, depending on whether I was in danger of touching cloth) of encountering that door being locked, as seemingly most other patrons stayed away. Marvellous.
One Monday morning I arrived for my daily motions to discover the sign had gone. The tiles had finally been replaced, AND a new loo seat installed to boot. Lovely.
It truly is LUDICROUSLY large – you could comfortably fit a poorly parked Renault Kangoo in there and still have room to spare. You also have a comfortable armrest on the left, which is perfect for a casual “lean” when having a browse on Twitter (the office wi-fi is still in range 2 floors down, which is quite impressive).
Earlier this year, I went in and a load of tiles had mysteriously fallen off the wall and smashed all over the floor (I have no idea how, or why, but I was not involved). This led to an “OUT OF ORDER” sign being put on the door. Naturally I ignored this sign, as the toilet itself was still in perfect working order. And for about 2 months I was completely free of the mild disappointment (or worry, depending on whether I was in danger of touching cloth) of encountering that door being locked, as seemingly most other patrons stayed away. Marvellous.
One Monday morning I arrived for my daily motions to discover the sign had gone. The tiles had finally been replaced, AND a new loo seat installed to boot. Lovely.