Tuesday, November 01, 2005

But It's Not About My Period Fucking Asshole

I have an internal radar that is almost infallible to tell me where the nearest bathroom. This is because my bladder is almost legendary in it's inability to hold anything for long. I always have to pee and the introduction of gastro-intestinal disease to my delicate system only made things uh more interesting.

So I will pee anywhere and am only slightly more particular where I will shit. I have pee in fields and on the side of the road, in every type of bathroom. I am the type of girl that is too much of a Princess or too much of a pain in the ass to wait in a long assed line (if indeed I am even capable of waiting) and so upon occasion I have used the men's room.

As a rule the men's bathroom is much more a sty than the ladies'. Women care too much about what other's think to just make a mess (at least while others are in the room and in a women's bathroom others are always in the room). This is why most women wash their hands and men don't. Those of us with vaginas would like to pretend this is because we are civilized and well mannered but really we are just more vulnerable to peer pressure and do not want to be called on our peeing on the seat if we can at all help it.

So imagine my surprise, my dismay, at finding something that was possibly the grossest thing I have ever found in a public bathroom in the bathroom at work today.

Smears of blood.

Smears of blood on the floor, the toilet, drug out into the tile in front of the sinks. Dark brown blood which can only have one connotation. I mean I am sure every woman has done something embarassing during her period but I sincerly hope that some one did accidentally get a used pad stuck to the bottom of her shoe and them walk around with it oblivious, because that is what looked like happened. It was like a scene from Carrie in there.

Worse, when I came back hours later it was still there, in an office where the cleaning woman comes by every four hours. Where we are hyper-sensitive to germs, odors and even the appearance of slovenliness.

Which leads me to conclude that no woman wanted to call it in because they were convinced that they would be pegged as the stupid bitch who smeared her period all over the bathroom.

I mean that is why I didn't call it in.

There you have it, yet another sad commentary on the politics of the work bathroom.

That noise you heard is the entire male population of the internet thanking GOD they are not a woman. And also thinking Gee, would it kill her to put a warning on an entry about her fucking period?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Not touching this one. No comment.