Workplace Toilets
Discussion
Andy Zarse said:
It was at this moment Phil became aware of certain coolness on his right foot. Looking down he was aghast to note that he’d trodden in the worlds longest turd and crap was now oozing between his toes in his reef-sandal. I’m sure I need only mention the phrase “reflex gag” for you to understand the gravity of his predicament. The horror of what had befallen him stopped him dead in his tracks, so to speak. Whilst his backside had frozen pendulously in mid-air before it was even halfway positioned over the seat, the stench of freshly disturbed excreta hit the back of his olifactory canal and the gagging had started. He was swiftly distressed to find himself vomiting into the back of his own trousers. Meanwhile, the tartiflette, together with the mortal remains of some prawns he’d eaten on the boat on the way over and goodness knows how many pints of beer, took this unfortunate moment to make good their escape from his rectum and jettisoned themselves all up the wall, the seat and even the light fitting…
I shouldn't laugh but
Timmy33 said:
Neil_H said:
Exactly the same at my work place and at my previous places as well, 2 investment banks and one hedge fund, supposedly staffed by intelligent mature individuals, and traders.
Oh christ 
the 'dawn' chorus of 'cr*pping flatulence' to be heard in any city office is absolutely staggering. It's worse than the bean feast sound effects in 'Blazing saddles' in there some mornings. Loving this thread
I flatly refuse to use the toilets in one of our press halls, it truly is revolting. The urinals have about 5 years of crusted p!ss around the edges and the toilets are something else. Every time I venture in there (to wash hands only), I can't help but look in the open traps and you can guarantee one of the toilets will be stuffed full of paper with a nice fat turd nestling on top. Why???? How difficult is it to flush?
Edited by frankhovis on Wednesday 28th May 21:51
Marf said:
Andy Zarse said:
It was at this moment Phil became aware of certain coolness on his right foot. Looking down he was aghast to note that he’d trodden in the worlds longest turd and crap was now oozing between his toes in his reef-sandal. I’m sure I need only mention the phrase “reflex gag” for you to understand the gravity of his predicament. The horror of what had befallen him stopped him dead in his tracks, so to speak. Whilst his backside had frozen pendulously in mid-air before it was even halfway positioned over the seat, the stench of freshly disturbed excreta hit the back of his olifactory canal and the gagging had started. He was swiftly distressed to find himself vomiting into the back of his own trousers. Meanwhile, the tartiflette, together with the mortal remains of some prawns he’d eaten on the boat on the way over and goodness knows how many pints of beer, took this unfortunate moment to make good their escape from his rectum and jettisoned themselves all up the wall, the seat and even the light fitting…
I shouldn't laugh butStang said:
JamesZS said:
I've just gone to take a dump at work, walked into the cubicle and found one of them to be totally blocked with poo and bog roll, and the other has turd smeared around the toilet seat!
I work in an office, yet it constantly seems like a Secondary School with the amount of urine, excrement and public hair that is constantly lacing the seats of the crappers!
Amusing suggestions as to how to get people to stop this practice would be fantastic.
dons Flame-proof suit and waits for 'gayer' related comments or similar
That's nothing. You want to try working offshore. I work in an office, yet it constantly seems like a Secondary School with the amount of urine, excrement and public hair that is constantly lacing the seats of the crappers!
Amusing suggestions as to how to get people to stop this practice would be fantastic.
dons Flame-proof suit and waits for 'gayer' related comments or similar
Mind you, one poor fellow did have the whole thing collapse under him, as he put his not unsubstantial weight on the plastic rim and his flip flop slipped and dropped him in a heap of broken porcelain and messy wet stuff.
At first he tried to deny it, but he was seen staggering from the toilet, wet and s
tty, limping, with several cuts and a missing flip flop. We also had one such Asian fellow who insisted on starting a new bog roll every time he used the bogs, until we had about fifteen started bog rolls piled about the place.
Don said:
Andy Zarse said:
...tale of disgusting vileness...
I am crying with laughter. Oh....'tis even better than the tale of Colin and the Underpants....(simultaenous Cable Laying coupled with chucking up into the pants around the ankles)I read that thread, starting out
, then 
followed by 
I tried to read it to my wife and got to the word "aghast" before I collapsed into fits of laughter, tears rolling down my cheeks, absolutely hysterical!
Thank you for the funniest post I have ever read on PistonHeads in 5 years
Andy Zarse said:
Woe betide you if you are unlucky enough to have to use any facilities at Le Mans 24 Hour race. It serves as a terrible warning as to how ordinarily-normal folk’s equilibrium can be upset once the demon drink’s involved in sufficient quantities. I’d personally hazard a guess I wouldn’t be embarrassed to go into the household lavatory of anyone who posts regularly on PH (Vixpy excepted of course) for a random and unannounced General Inspection of the Ablutions, and even if I didn't wish to eat my dinner off it, I'd likely find it in entirely satisfactory condition.
It remains a mystery therefore that by Saturday night some of the toilets at Le Mans resemble a bad day at a Crimean War Dysentery Hospital following an especially nasty outbreak of The Liquorice. For some unknown reason, st gets plastered absolutely everywhere, up the walls, underneath the seat, down the outside of the pan, on the door handle, there's even flecks on the light shade. Who makes this terrible mess and why? It baffles and upsets me in equal measure, really it does, but being of a charitable disposition I’m always hopeful there’s a logical explanation. It might be that a similar fate befell the previous toilet occupant of one lavatory just before my brother got to it;
Phil popped into one of the long row of Porta-loos the ACO had set up in the field where they held the Jamiraquoi concert. I think he’d eaten some tartiflette that had strongly disagreed with him and which was racing through his digestive tract faster than an asylum seeker down the Channel Tunnel. Getting his bottom over the porcelain, or vacuum-moulded plastic in this instance, was deemed a necessity. He headed for the first vacant facility, was up the step like a mountain goat and had the door slammed closed in very swift order. The overture began when he went into that well rehearsed simultaneous movement, you know the one, whereby one fluidly undoes one’s belt and buttons, pulls down the strides, bends forward and manoeuvres one’s arse over the seat, whilst the Safety Car turns out the yellow flashing lights and pulls into the pit lane to allow the “cars” clear passage to hurtle down the “pit straight” and into the pan. Well, what could possibly go wrong?
It was at this moment Phil became aware of certain coolness on his right foot. Looking down he was aghast to note that he’d trodden in the worlds longest turd and crap was now oozing between his toes in his reef-sandal. I’m sure I need only mention the phrase “reflex gag” for you to understand the gravity of his predicament. The horror of what had befallen him stopped him dead in his tracks, so to speak. Whilst his backside had frozen pendulously in mid-air before it was even halfway positioned over the seat, the stench of freshly disturbed excreta hit the back of his olifactory canal and the gagging had started. He was swiftly distressed to find himself vomiting into the back of his own trousers. Meanwhile, the tartiflette, together with the mortal remains of some prawns he’d eaten on the boat on the way over and goodness knows how many pints of beer, took this unfortunate moment to make good their escape from his rectum and jettisoned themselves all up the wall, the seat and even the light fitting…
It was at this point in proceedings he noticed that, (drum roll) THERE WAS NO PAPER! Thus he was obliged to clean up using his tee-shirt. Fortunately the organisers were giving out those Audi 24 Hour Jam shirts, so good old VW Group saved the day.
Is your username not ironic?It remains a mystery therefore that by Saturday night some of the toilets at Le Mans resemble a bad day at a Crimean War Dysentery Hospital following an especially nasty outbreak of The Liquorice. For some unknown reason, s
t gets plastered absolutely everywhere, up the walls, underneath the seat, down the outside of the pan, on the door handle, there's even flecks on the light shade. Who makes this terrible mess and why? It baffles and upsets me in equal measure, really it does, but being of a charitable disposition I’m always hopeful there’s a logical explanation. It might be that a similar fate befell the previous toilet occupant of one lavatory just before my brother got to it;Phil popped into one of the long row of Porta-loos the ACO had set up in the field where they held the Jamiraquoi concert. I think he’d eaten some tartiflette that had strongly disagreed with him and which was racing through his digestive tract faster than an asylum seeker down the Channel Tunnel. Getting his bottom over the porcelain, or vacuum-moulded plastic in this instance, was deemed a necessity. He headed for the first vacant facility, was up the step like a mountain goat and had the door slammed closed in very swift order. The overture began when he went into that well rehearsed simultaneous movement, you know the one, whereby one fluidly undoes one’s belt and buttons, pulls down the strides, bends forward and manoeuvres one’s arse over the seat, whilst the Safety Car turns out the yellow flashing lights and pulls into the pit lane to allow the “cars” clear passage to hurtle down the “pit straight” and into the pan. Well, what could possibly go wrong?
It was at this moment Phil became aware of certain coolness on his right foot. Looking down he was aghast to note that he’d trodden in the worlds longest turd and crap was now oozing between his toes in his reef-sandal. I’m sure I need only mention the phrase “reflex gag” for you to understand the gravity of his predicament. The horror of what had befallen him stopped him dead in his tracks, so to speak. Whilst his backside had frozen pendulously in mid-air before it was even halfway positioned over the seat, the stench of freshly disturbed excreta hit the back of his olifactory canal and the gagging had started. He was swiftly distressed to find himself vomiting into the back of his own trousers. Meanwhile, the tartiflette, together with the mortal remains of some prawns he’d eaten on the boat on the way over and goodness knows how many pints of beer, took this unfortunate moment to make good their escape from his rectum and jettisoned themselves all up the wall, the seat and even the light fitting…
It was at this point in proceedings he noticed that, (drum roll) THERE WAS NO PAPER! Thus he was obliged to clean up using his tee-shirt. Fortunately the organisers were giving out those Audi 24 Hour Jam shirts, so good old VW Group saved the day.
i haven't released the hostages in the office bogs for ages. i almost want to pat myself on back for such control of one's excretal processes. anyway, i digress. toilet cubicles. why oh why don't they leave enough space between the door and the toilet, so you don't end up wiping your trousers on the filthy rim.
PhilLL said:
I pi55ed in one of our toilets the other day; unfortunately no-one told me it was disconnected and awaiting draining while they start the toilet refurb 
Were you sat there with your pants around your ankles as they reached out to the door, screaming "Don't come in! I'm having a st!!"Because that would be hillarious.
What annoys me is why, when I've gone into trap 5 of an empty 5 trap arrangement, would some noisy smelly arsed bd feel the need to complete his movements in trap 4, and not the "regulation" trap 1? It's just bad manners to use an adjacent trap when one further along is free...
Thankfully my office lav's are very nicely kept, and cleaned 3 times daily AFAIK...so smell / mess isn't an issue, but I swear some people just like to make as much noise as possible in there though.
d feel the need to complete his movements in trap 4, and not the "regulation" trap 1? It's just bad manners to use an adjacent trap when one further along is free...Thankfully my office lav's are very nicely kept, and cleaned 3 times daily AFAIK...so smell / mess isn't an issue, but I swear some people just like to make as much noise as possible in there though.
Heskey said:
PhilLL said:
I pi55ed in one of our toilets the other day; unfortunately no-one told me it was disconnected and awaiting draining while they start the toilet refurb
Were you sat there with your pants around your ankles as they reached out to the door, screaming "Don't come in! I'm having a st!!"Because that would be hillarious.
Anyway, I work in a depot with 500 ish others and the toilets can be incredible despite full time cleaners. Is it me or do some people leave more loo roll on the floor than they probably use whilst in action?
NiceCupOfTea said:
Don said:
Andy Zarse said:
...tale of disgusting vileness...
I am crying with laughter. Oh....'tis even better than the tale of Colin and the Underpants....(simultaenous Cable Laying coupled with chucking up into the pants around the ankles)I read that thread, starting out
, then followed by I tried to read it to my wife and got to the word "aghast" before I collapsed into fits of laughter, tears rolling down my cheeks, absolutely hysterical!
Thank you for the funniest post I have ever read on PistonHeads in 5 years
Our loos are heavenly compared to some of the horror show reported in this thread.
Am I the only one who's weirded out by colleagues starting conversations with you when you're taking care of business? Especially when it's someone you don't really know...
Edited by collateral on Thursday 29th May 00:44
Timmy33 said:
I've been thinking of making a similar post. Can anyone explain why people fill the bog with paper and leave it. Totally stuffed full of paper, sometimes with a turd on top but usually not.
Maybe someone has done it on here? Or knows someone who has....I'm genuinely mystyfied. I mean WTF is the point in doing it?
The worst part about the turd sitting on top of the paper....someone has gone to the effort of making a nest to prevent a splash, dropped a poo...but then not wiped?!?!Maybe someone has done it on here? Or knows someone who has....I'm genuinely mystyfied. I mean WTF is the point in doing it?
Surely if they had wiped the turd would be buried under yet more paper?
I've heard this stuff can help.
collateral said:
NiceCupOfTea said:
Don said:
Andy Zarse said:
...tale of disgusting vileness...
I am crying with laughter. Oh....'tis even better than the tale of Colin and the Underpants....(simultaenous Cable Laying coupled with chucking up into the pants around the ankles)I read that thread, starting out
, then followed by I tried to read it to my wife and got to the word "aghast" before I collapsed into fits of laughter, tears rolling down my cheeks, absolutely hysterical!
Thank you for the funniest post I have ever read on PistonHeads in 5 years
Our loos are heavenly compared to some of the horror show reported in this thread.
Am I the only one who's weirded out by colleagues starting conversations with you when you're taking care of business? Especially when it's someone you don't really know...
Edited by collateral on Thursday 29th May 00:44
Until then, keep 'em wiped!
I'm afraid I've seen all of the horror stories listed above and more due to working overseas. However the worst one I ever had the misfotune to walk into post event was in Turkey.
The toilet was a reasonable size which was fotunate because it meant that I didn't stand in the puke the moment I stepped though the door. Morbid curiosity prompted me to stand on tip-toes and lean over to see what might be in the bowl. My eyes were greeted by a complete pan wallpapering of ste AND blood and then he had puked on the floor in front of him. What confused me most was the complete absense of toilet roll in the pan. There was toilet roll in the room but clearly the guy had just pulled his strides up and gone back to work.
It haunts me to this day.
The toilet was a reasonable size which was fotunate because it meant that I didn't stand in the puke the moment I stepped though the door. Morbid curiosity prompted me to stand on tip-toes and lean over to see what might be in the bowl. My eyes were greeted by a complete pan wallpapering of s
te AND blood and then he had puked on the floor in front of him. What confused me most was the complete absense of toilet roll in the pan. There was toilet roll in the room but clearly the guy had just pulled his strides up and gone back to work.It haunts me to this day.
None of you been to Glasto?
You've not lived until you've seen the mound of poo actually exceed the height of the seat. In 90deg heat. Whilst 'adjusted'.
In 2000 when loads of people went over the fence 'toilet tipping' became the sport du jour.
Which is so epically bleak as not to warrant consideration.
You've not lived until you've seen the mound of poo actually exceed the height of the seat. In 90deg heat. Whilst 'adjusted'.
In 2000 when loads of people went over the fence 'toilet tipping' became the sport du jour.
Which is so epically bleak as not to warrant consideration.
I don't know if it really counts as workplace toilets, but I was camping in Portugal for a couple of months for surfing. The shower block had 8 showers, 6 were cold but the two hot ones were great. Until I opened the door one day to find a big fat turd placed proudly in the centre of the shower cubicle. Why the fack would you feel inclined to do that.
Our workplace toilets can be grim at times, but on the whole a lot better than when I worked in offices. There are also some very plush toilets if you make the effort to walk across site. Always worth it as you can contemplate how much extra you're geting paid for the walk.
Our workplace toilets can be grim at times, but on the whole a lot better than when I worked in offices. There are also some very plush toilets if you make the effort to walk across site. Always worth it as you can contemplate how much extra you're geting paid for the walk.
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