Rotten in Denmark

Wednesday, 30 May 2007

Due to a shortage of space, at one of the jobs I work my desk is located in a corridor between offices, the kitchen and WCs. It has its advantages - I have the best view in the whole building and get to talk to lots of folk passing by throughout the day. Unfortunately I also have a direct view to the toilets and can’t help but be aware of comings and goings throughout the day.

Now we’re all human and what goes on in there is a private matter between you and your backside as far as I’m concerned …until a fluttering brown eye is flaunted in the public domain that is. Not mentioning any names ofcourse, but there’s this one older guy who pretty much everyday without fail attends to his “needs”. You know it’s coming as soon as he closes the door. The room starts shaking and everybody within a 200m radius is awoken from their reverie by a thundering clap. Followed by what can only be described as all too realistic moist, wet, rotten faaAAAAArting noises. Call me a girl, but it’s definitely enough to put me off my stride and make me feel a little nauseous.

The environment is pretty much male dominated and they all think make great jokes about it - but not to his face I notice – I reckon deep down they’re scared too! They work in IT. I reckon they should create him a little icon for his computer desktop. It would have a picture of a piece of crap, all brown, smelly and disgusting like. Underneath it could simply say “Happens Daily”.

Maybe he’s a mate of Kevin Bloody Wilson. Or a reincarnation of famous French professional farter, Joseph Pujol (aka Le P├ętomane). Or perhaps he’s a wombat. A wombat? Yeah, the wombat uses its bum to produce something of a novelty – square poos. No shit!

Whatever he is, I've made a mental note never to shake his hand.