Lavatorial

I don’t know what it is about the men in this office building where I now work, but on any given day the toilets are abso-fucking-lutely revolting by mid-day. It’s not a one-off, this is every working day. They stink, and every single toilet (as opposed to urinal) has shite-marks all round the inside. It’s not like the office building doesn’t provide bog-brushes, it’s (I suspect) that the majority of the ‘men’ in here just don’t use them.

The worst bit though is the lack of flushage. (hmmm, good word – must remember that one) I swear some of them must be so proud of what they’ve done, they want to display it to the world. And frankly there’s very little as unappealing as walking into a toilet cubicle to be confronted by a floating log of such proportions that one can only wonder whether the layer of said log had recently been buggered by a whale.

I feel sorry for the cleaners – every morning the toilets are in pristine condition, by mid-day they’re layered in shite yet again. It must be a hugely demoralising task.

Why is it that some men (and, though I have little knowledge, some women too) seem incapable of brushing/flushing/being some kind of decent human being?