Typical morning; but isn't that how all adventures start? Popped into the office just a few minutes behind schedule, and was relieved to see that a friendly colleague had already started a pot of coffee. Grab a cup, and start the work day. About two cups later, a familiar urge hits the lower intestine. Time to go.
Topping off my coffee cup on the way out the door, I wave to another (less then friendly) colleague just making her way in (at the time I didn't see the significance of this bad omen). I checked my watch, hoping that I still had a few minutes before James, the local custodial engineer, made the rounds. No dice. So I made the quick trek up to the bathroom directly above. Swung open the door and stared... water was pouring like a fountain from between the ceiling tiles. Regained my composure, and dialed the facilities manager to alert him of the massive leak.
I wish I could say this was the first time I had to call in a bathroom failure, but I've been on the dialing end twice before. Same situation. Luckily, I was not having a bathroom emergency of my own, and I safely made it to the third restroom on my contingency route.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
RJ::Dog Doos and Don'ts
I already see it at least three times a day, no need for a calendar...
This is definately a don't.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
RJ::Trouble
Trouble is A-Brewing
Today I stepped into unchartered territory. Afternoon coffee. Now I know this may surprise a lot of you readers, but I generally shy away from the java after lunch – usually by then I am completely awake and can face the last half of the day without a stimulant. As expected, this irregular decision made a direct impact on my Regular Joes status, or to put it another way – made me irregular.
While I sat there in the restroom for a rare 3PM deuce, I was reminded of one of my most harrowing adventures in a public restroom. This dates back about two years ago…
[Cue dream sequence.]
I was attending an association meeting at an off site location. I had been there several times before so I was familiar with the bathroom and its equipment. These meetings are generally all day; however I usually duck out after lunch as to avoid getting pulled into a working group or committee. On the morning in question I recall feeling a little more fatigued then usual – either due to lack of sleep or the dry meeting material. As one might guess with coffee provided, I hit the sauce like a hobo on a ham sandwich. I can vividly remember the tiny 10oz Styrofoam coffee cups, that felt more like shot glasses then coffee cups, and having to make trip after trip to refill the dinky cup. Seriously, I hate those cups; you have a three second window to drink your coffee - between scalding hot coffee and iced coffee. I digress. I had finally settled into my seat as the morning presentations began. It wasn’t long before I felt a little uneasy – Stage 1. Shortly after, the first gas tremors began to rumble in my gut – Stage 2.
Knowing time was short – already at stage two of five in the classic emergency diarrhea scenario – I began to shuffle my papers and ready myself for a quick exit. Experience will tell you that the first two stages are critical warning signs to heed, as the onset of the last three stages comes quickly and in rapid fire. If you have not already made some preparations, it may already be too late.
I checked my watch, glanced at the agenda – “maybe I can hold out until the break, this guy is almost done with his slides,” I thought to myself. Immediately upon completion of that thought Stage 3 – uncontrolled butt clenching – struck. Here’s where most people start making mistakes. It’s a little known fact that once you’ve entered the third stage, you instantly move into Stage 4 – the sweats. We’ve all been there, it’s like there’s a heat lamp directly over your head. This is it. This is when panic sets in for those without an exit strategy. This is when people get hurt.
I made my move. Quickly and quietly I stood and briskly walked to the exit. I was a man on a mission, no eye contact, no hellos, no nothing – I would have walked past my own mother and not acknowledged or even recognized her. I was midway to the restroom when I entered Stage 5 – crowning. Some people will refer to it as a “peeking gopher,” or a “turtle’s head poking out;” either way if you aren’t in or around a bathroom at this point, you run the risk of ruining a perfectly good pair of briefs.
Had the bathroom been closed for cleaning, Lord knows what might have happened. With everyone else still in the meeting I had a moment alone to peacefully unload my burden. I breathed a sigh of relief and reflected back on how my calm and quick decisions helped me avoid disaster. I could hear the sound of applause from the conference room, and knew that soon a flood of attendees would soon spoil my moment.
The bathroom door slowly opened and the loud talking masses entered the restroom, it was then and only then that I noticed I had made a serious error – there wasn’t any toilet paper in my stall! The crowd of full bladdered men was still pouring in…I looked around – damn, no ass-gaskets (seat covers). I considered loosely pulling up my pants and maneuvering down to another stall, but on further investigation of the splatter-fest I had just endured, I realized that would not be an option. I was trapped. I would have to wait them out. Sit quietly in my stall of shame until every last man had finished his business, before waddling to the next stall – pants around my ankles. I lowered my head in defeat. How could I have let this happen? In my rush to the bathroom I lost my composure, and forgot the most basic of public restroom ground rules – don’t take the toilet paper for granted.
As I sat there replaying the events that led up to my predicament in my head, something caught my eye. I slowly turned to the left and there it was… just under the stall wall fluttering ever so slightly in the breeze (no doubt created by the massive influx of people into the confined space), was the smallest of TP pieces. It was hanging down from the stall next door. Could it be? Was I really saved? How much was on the roll? Would the other people in the restroom see me pulling the toilet paper from under the stall? Did the paper have enough tensile strength to withstand the extra distance of force I would apply?
In the end all those questions didn’t matter – there was no one in the next stall, so I had no choice but to go for it. I gingerly grasped the end of the sheet, and cautiously pulled it toward me. Once I had gathered a handful, I tore the paper using both hands to be sure I could reach it again if I needed more… and I did. I went back to the well three times before all was said and done. Did anyone see? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I had survived, and that was all that mattered. I like to think that given the same situation, MacGyver would have done the same thing (You know, what would Richard Dean Anderson do? - WWRDAD?).
[Fade to present.]
So there it is my friends, a cautionary tale. Heed the warning signs, plan ahead and adapt to your surroundings. Let’s be safe out there.
Today I stepped into unchartered territory. Afternoon coffee. Now I know this may surprise a lot of you readers, but I generally shy away from the java after lunch – usually by then I am completely awake and can face the last half of the day without a stimulant. As expected, this irregular decision made a direct impact on my Regular Joes status, or to put it another way – made me irregular.
While I sat there in the restroom for a rare 3PM deuce, I was reminded of one of my most harrowing adventures in a public restroom. This dates back about two years ago…
[Cue dream sequence.]
I was attending an association meeting at an off site location. I had been there several times before so I was familiar with the bathroom and its equipment. These meetings are generally all day; however I usually duck out after lunch as to avoid getting pulled into a working group or committee. On the morning in question I recall feeling a little more fatigued then usual – either due to lack of sleep or the dry meeting material. As one might guess with coffee provided, I hit the sauce like a hobo on a ham sandwich. I can vividly remember the tiny 10oz Styrofoam coffee cups, that felt more like shot glasses then coffee cups, and having to make trip after trip to refill the dinky cup. Seriously, I hate those cups; you have a three second window to drink your coffee - between scalding hot coffee and iced coffee. I digress. I had finally settled into my seat as the morning presentations began. It wasn’t long before I felt a little uneasy – Stage 1. Shortly after, the first gas tremors began to rumble in my gut – Stage 2.
Knowing time was short – already at stage two of five in the classic emergency diarrhea scenario – I began to shuffle my papers and ready myself for a quick exit. Experience will tell you that the first two stages are critical warning signs to heed, as the onset of the last three stages comes quickly and in rapid fire. If you have not already made some preparations, it may already be too late.
I checked my watch, glanced at the agenda – “maybe I can hold out until the break, this guy is almost done with his slides,” I thought to myself. Immediately upon completion of that thought Stage 3 – uncontrolled butt clenching – struck. Here’s where most people start making mistakes. It’s a little known fact that once you’ve entered the third stage, you instantly move into Stage 4 – the sweats. We’ve all been there, it’s like there’s a heat lamp directly over your head. This is it. This is when panic sets in for those without an exit strategy. This is when people get hurt.
I made my move. Quickly and quietly I stood and briskly walked to the exit. I was a man on a mission, no eye contact, no hellos, no nothing – I would have walked past my own mother and not acknowledged or even recognized her. I was midway to the restroom when I entered Stage 5 – crowning. Some people will refer to it as a “peeking gopher,” or a “turtle’s head poking out;” either way if you aren’t in or around a bathroom at this point, you run the risk of ruining a perfectly good pair of briefs.
Had the bathroom been closed for cleaning, Lord knows what might have happened. With everyone else still in the meeting I had a moment alone to peacefully unload my burden. I breathed a sigh of relief and reflected back on how my calm and quick decisions helped me avoid disaster. I could hear the sound of applause from the conference room, and knew that soon a flood of attendees would soon spoil my moment.
The bathroom door slowly opened and the loud talking masses entered the restroom, it was then and only then that I noticed I had made a serious error – there wasn’t any toilet paper in my stall! The crowd of full bladdered men was still pouring in…I looked around – damn, no ass-gaskets (seat covers). I considered loosely pulling up my pants and maneuvering down to another stall, but on further investigation of the splatter-fest I had just endured, I realized that would not be an option. I was trapped. I would have to wait them out. Sit quietly in my stall of shame until every last man had finished his business, before waddling to the next stall – pants around my ankles. I lowered my head in defeat. How could I have let this happen? In my rush to the bathroom I lost my composure, and forgot the most basic of public restroom ground rules – don’t take the toilet paper for granted.
As I sat there replaying the events that led up to my predicament in my head, something caught my eye. I slowly turned to the left and there it was… just under the stall wall fluttering ever so slightly in the breeze (no doubt created by the massive influx of people into the confined space), was the smallest of TP pieces. It was hanging down from the stall next door. Could it be? Was I really saved? How much was on the roll? Would the other people in the restroom see me pulling the toilet paper from under the stall? Did the paper have enough tensile strength to withstand the extra distance of force I would apply?
In the end all those questions didn’t matter – there was no one in the next stall, so I had no choice but to go for it. I gingerly grasped the end of the sheet, and cautiously pulled it toward me. Once I had gathered a handful, I tore the paper using both hands to be sure I could reach it again if I needed more… and I did. I went back to the well three times before all was said and done. Did anyone see? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I had survived, and that was all that mattered. I like to think that given the same situation, MacGyver would have done the same thing (You know, what would Richard Dean Anderson do? - WWRDAD?).
[Fade to present.]
So there it is my friends, a cautionary tale. Heed the warning signs, plan ahead and adapt to your surroundings. Let’s be safe out there.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
RJ::Substitute Teachers
While I'm away on vacation over the holidays, I've invited a couple friends to contribute to the site. Jason is up first - so while I dine on some turkey next week, please enjoy the stylings of Jason:
"Mom's exhausted and told me to keep you posted on dad's stool. After a bunch of false alarms, dad sat down and first just farted a lot, but then a little spatter came out. He waited, then thought he was done, but when he stood up he realized he had to go again. When he sat down, thick frothy streams of light brown diarrhea came out. Dad yelled at mom when she asked if he was peeing.
"Later on, during "The View," dad farted in bed a few times and then was surprised when the last fart brought a little something with it. Mom said it looked like motor oil leaking out of him. While she cleaned, he groaned in agony as his stool came out - with a consistency like chunky soup,beef stew or chili. Mom said it just kept coming out for like twenty minutes, then he just yelled her name. When She got in, he looked wrecked, his brow and hair soaked with sweat, and he needed her help to stand and wipe. Mom said it smelled like hot garbage and old broccoli. His farts smell like B.O. And tuna fish.
I'll keep you guys posted as she updates me!"
"Mom's exhausted and told me to keep you posted on dad's stool. After a bunch of false alarms, dad sat down and first just farted a lot, but then a little spatter came out. He waited, then thought he was done, but when he stood up he realized he had to go again. When he sat down, thick frothy streams of light brown diarrhea came out. Dad yelled at mom when she asked if he was peeing.
"Later on, during "The View," dad farted in bed a few times and then was surprised when the last fart brought a little something with it. Mom said it looked like motor oil leaking out of him. While she cleaned, he groaned in agony as his stool came out - with a consistency like chunky soup,beef stew or chili. Mom said it just kept coming out for like twenty minutes, then he just yelled her name. When She got in, he looked wrecked, his brow and hair soaked with sweat, and he needed her help to stand and wipe. Mom said it smelled like hot garbage and old broccoli. His farts smell like B.O. And tuna fish.
I'll keep you guys posted as she updates me!"
Friday, November 14, 2008
RJ::Equipment Issues 01
Yesterday I nearly made a rookie mistake in the office restroom. Just after my second cup of coffee, I made my routine stroll into the closest WC (that's water closet for you non-brits). Due to some overflow/flooding issues, I had to forego my regular stall and move down to next cleanest stall. As I took my seat, and just prior to reaching the point of no return, I noticed that there was no toilet paper in the dispenser. Phew, disaster averted. I changed stalls yet again.
While I accept full responsibility for a momentary laps in judgment, I would like to point out that there has been a recent equipment change at my home field (so to speak). Industrial Cleaning has replaced the TP dispensers... and not for any reason you might think.
I know what you're thinking; big deal, right? Actually I'm quite thrilled with the new design. You'll notice that the new dispenser has gone away from the rounded top, making for a nice shelf on which to place a coffee cup. That's besides the point. It's the reason behind the change that really grinds my gears: smokers.
You read right, smokers. Turns out that some of the 3rd shift employees have taken to smoking in the boys room, as if they were still in grade school. Okay, so I can only assume it's the 3rd shift employees because I've only encountered any evidence of smoking very early in the morning, prior to cleaning. "But wouldn't cigarette smoke set of the smoke alarms?" I hear you asking. Normally yes, but these guys have an ingenious way around that: they break open the TP dispensers and blow the cigarette smoke into the side of the industrial size toilet paper roll, thereby acting as super filter and eliminating the smoke from the air. This of course is only my interpretation of the evidence:
- toilet paper dispensers are constantly broken (exposing the roll)
- cigarette ash on the ground inside stalls
- toilet paper smells like an ash tray
Yeah, I'm a real freaking detective... I've seen harder episodes of Blues Clues. I guess it's only a matter of time before these new dispensers are broken and smelling of smoke as well... for now, I'm going to enjoy fresh smelling toilet paper and a handy place to rest my cup.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
RJ::Why
It has come to my attention, that while Regular Joes services a purpose, nay, the community at large; just exactly how and why this site was started, has puzzled more then a few. The short answer is two fold: 1) that all guys (and even some gals) find all potty humor funny, and 2) as I've gotten older I've noticed a distinct correspondence between drinking coffee and having going "number two." An lesser, indirect factor has been the lack of a viable outlet for discussion on these issues.
The longer answer is threefold:
1) The Regulars – I saw this commercial on TV several years back, which only now resonates with me. I believe it was called “the regulars,” and it was for a bran cereal, Metamucil or something similar. Basic gist: Three guys walk into a three stall bathroom (greeting each other) every single morning at the exact same time. It seemed preposterous at the time, but now – I am one of those guys. Granted, I don’t have a bathroom clique, crew, or any thing like that, but I do have a similar experience everyday right after my second cup of coffee.
2) The Rant – Back when I first began working in the real world, a friend of mine (who was in shock from the transition into the workforce) sent the “Why we all drink” rant from Craig’s List… I didn’t stop laughing for days. Truth be told, there is only one paragraph that relates to RJ, but its literary masterpiece regardless. The success of this rant directly influenced my decision to go public with RJ.
3) The Final Straw – Background: I switched offices a few years back, and to my chagrin it is located next door to the training office. This is both good and bad. The good part about being in this office is that it is conveniently located next to one of the nicest restrooms in the building (and there are over 300). Something you may or may not find surprising, the quality of bathrooms throughout the office has a larger disparity then the wage gap. In that, of the over 300 restrooms located within the four building campus, there are only a handful in which you’d feel any level of comfort with only one seat cover between your ass and seat. There are some drawbacks to a nice restroom: there is a lot of foot traffic, noise, trash, annoying people asking for directions, etc. But the worst part is the sheer quantity of users grows exponentially in relation to bathroom’s quality – you’d be surprised how far people will go to… uh, go – this can detract from the restroom’s overall appeal. On the upside, being so close to training means that it gets cleaned regularly and thoroughly, being that training offers a lot of classes for customers as well as employees.
This is where my conflict begins: on my very first day in the office, I took a stroll to see what type of equipment I’d be working with at my designated water closet… RESTROOM CLOSED FOR CLEANING sign greeted me. Huh? Oh well. So I did some research and located a couple alternates in case I ever ran into this situation again (you always need a game plan just in case you have an emergency situation). Very next day, same sign!? Fast forward four years, and I’ve had this problem at least once a week! Right after my second cup of coffee, I walk around the corner and I have a 1-in-5 chance of being detoured. More often then not, when I do get in I’ll have either just beat the cleaning guy in (which gives you the strange mix of emotions - satisfaction/ embarrassment/ sympathy) or see him on his way out. The later being the idle situation; not only do you get a freshly cleaned bathroom, but usually he leaves behind a WET FLOOR sign in the doorway which can scare away less experienced Joes and leave you to do your business in peace.
It was striking number of times I’ve run into this cleaning situation that was the final straw in determining whether to start this blog or not. Surely I am not the only one who needs a place to vent about and every day issue such as this.
So there it is my friends: the hows and whys that brought RJ into being. Now that you know the story, let me lay down a few ground rules:
- Keep it clean – yes, at times this can be dirty subject matter, but lets be adults when it comes to our language.
- This is not a trophy case – this it about funny or annoying stories/situations that occur in or around restrooms, not place for you to display or describe your prizing winning turd.
- Have an open mind – not all of the posts will peek your interest. If you find one that’s not to your liking, just move on to the next one and try not to be offended.
- Lastly, take part.
The longer answer is threefold:
1) The Regulars – I saw this commercial on TV several years back, which only now resonates with me. I believe it was called “the regulars,” and it was for a bran cereal, Metamucil or something similar. Basic gist: Three guys walk into a three stall bathroom (greeting each other) every single morning at the exact same time. It seemed preposterous at the time, but now – I am one of those guys. Granted, I don’t have a bathroom clique, crew, or any thing like that, but I do have a similar experience everyday right after my second cup of coffee.
2) The Rant – Back when I first began working in the real world, a friend of mine (who was in shock from the transition into the workforce) sent the “Why we all drink” rant from Craig’s List… I didn’t stop laughing for days. Truth be told, there is only one paragraph that relates to RJ, but its literary masterpiece regardless. The success of this rant directly influenced my decision to go public with RJ.
3) The Final Straw – Background: I switched offices a few years back, and to my chagrin it is located next door to the training office. This is both good and bad. The good part about being in this office is that it is conveniently located next to one of the nicest restrooms in the building (and there are over 300). Something you may or may not find surprising, the quality of bathrooms throughout the office has a larger disparity then the wage gap. In that, of the over 300 restrooms located within the four building campus, there are only a handful in which you’d feel any level of comfort with only one seat cover between your ass and seat. There are some drawbacks to a nice restroom: there is a lot of foot traffic, noise, trash, annoying people asking for directions, etc. But the worst part is the sheer quantity of users grows exponentially in relation to bathroom’s quality – you’d be surprised how far people will go to… uh, go – this can detract from the restroom’s overall appeal. On the upside, being so close to training means that it gets cleaned regularly and thoroughly, being that training offers a lot of classes for customers as well as employees.
This is where my conflict begins: on my very first day in the office, I took a stroll to see what type of equipment I’d be working with at my designated water closet… RESTROOM CLOSED FOR CLEANING sign greeted me. Huh? Oh well. So I did some research and located a couple alternates in case I ever ran into this situation again (you always need a game plan just in case you have an emergency situation). Very next day, same sign!? Fast forward four years, and I’ve had this problem at least once a week! Right after my second cup of coffee, I walk around the corner and I have a 1-in-5 chance of being detoured. More often then not, when I do get in I’ll have either just beat the cleaning guy in (which gives you the strange mix of emotions - satisfaction/ embarrassment/ sympathy) or see him on his way out. The later being the idle situation; not only do you get a freshly cleaned bathroom, but usually he leaves behind a WET FLOOR sign in the doorway which can scare away less experienced Joes and leave you to do your business in peace.
It was striking number of times I’ve run into this cleaning situation that was the final straw in determining whether to start this blog or not. Surely I am not the only one who needs a place to vent about and every day issue such as this.
So there it is my friends: the hows and whys that brought RJ into being. Now that you know the story, let me lay down a few ground rules:
- Keep it clean – yes, at times this can be dirty subject matter, but lets be adults when it comes to our language.
- This is not a trophy case – this it about funny or annoying stories/situations that occur in or around restrooms, not place for you to display or describe your prizing winning turd.
- Have an open mind – not all of the posts will peek your interest. If you find one that’s not to your liking, just move on to the next one and try not to be offended.
- Lastly, take part.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
RJ::101
Welcome to the Regular Joes blog. With a title like regular joes, you're probably thinking this is a blog for normal, everyday guys... you'd be wrong. Okay, well maybe its a blog for people name Joe, Joseph or Josephine... wrong again. Believe it or not, this is a blog about two things: coffee and being regular (in the gastro intestinal way), and how the two themes can sometimes work as a team.
Why a blog about such taboo topics? Simply put, because most people are uncomfortable speaking to these issues in public (hence the use of "taboo"). Whether its at home, school, work or in public there are a lot of unspoken rules, a code of ethics if you will, that one must adhere to when using the restroom. The goal of this blog is to have a free and open discussion on the issues that you may not be able to talk about otherwise. As you may have guessed, this is not a serious blog. So keep that in mind as you read, comment and suggest blog topics.
Why a blog about such taboo topics? Simply put, because most people are uncomfortable speaking to these issues in public (hence the use of "taboo"). Whether its at home, school, work or in public there are a lot of unspoken rules, a code of ethics if you will, that one must adhere to when using the restroom. The goal of this blog is to have a free and open discussion on the issues that you may not be able to talk about otherwise. As you may have guessed, this is not a serious blog. So keep that in mind as you read, comment and suggest blog topics.
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