Monday, May 07, 2007

Baffoom Break

The restroom is currently out of order again. It's being remodeled because idiot kids are having a make-believe gang war on our walls despite the fact that gangs are stupid, and these kids are about as hardcore as the Get-Along Gang. Seriously, I'd like to drop off the load of these limping, crook-wristed pubescents in the lower east side of Chicago at midnight and see how many of them last until morning.

The illustrious corporate office decided to tile the first four feet up from the floor with polished, industrial ceramic tile and wallpaper the rest, which baffles me because you can still write on and cut into wallpaper, and now we won't be able to simply paint over it. Their excuse is that it's industrial wallpaper that can't be cut. My argument is: Bullshit, these kids don't carry decorative swords; they carry knives that can cut through vinyl like warm butter. But we'll just have to wait and see. Some companies just have to learn best through trial and error that a little extra investment up front saves a lot of money in the long run. If they decide to put a mirror back in, I will laugh and laugh, and when crackhead smashes it to cut the roaches out from under his skin, I will refuse to it up.

So anyway, our restroom is out of order. It's basically in the hallway. There's a sign on the door, eye level with people as they walk in, black on white paper, informing them of this, and they essentially can't miss it. Unfortunately, the only people who read signs on doors are people whom the signs have nothing to do with. Everyone else ignores signs because the only thing on their mind is the next contact high. (Seriously, just yesterday, we had a woman try to put a money order on a credit card. When have you ever been able to put a money order on a credit card? That's why they're called money orders. This woman was at least in her forties. Where has she been all her life? I knew this when I was in my teens.)

I know people read the sign because I see them pause at the door and their eyes dart across the paper as they mouth the words silently to emphasize the impact in their minds. Apparently, they assume that the sign that reads, "Public restroom temporarily out of order, sorry for the inconvenience" does not apply to them specifically, so they wander to the back of the store as if they will somehow still be able to use it. When they see that the room that previously contained the toilet, sink, and trash can is now in the hallway, they wander back up to the front of the store and, seriously, ask this: "Hey, mang. You baffoom not work?"

"No, you'll have to go somewhere else. Sorry."

"So there's no way I can use the baffoom?"

::blink-blink:: "No, it's not even hooked up right now. It's in the hallway."


I mean, you read the sign, you saw the condition of the restroom, why even waste my time and yours by having that conversation? It's five in the evening. Other places are open! Just go somewhere else, my fucking God! We had one guy arrested on charges of indecent exposure, public intoxication, and driving while intoxicated because he whipped it out right in front of our (female) manager and relieved himself right in the parking lot, then drove away. She told him he couldn't do that there, and he shrugged, said "The restroom's out of order," as if that's an excuse, and kept on peeing, so she got his plates and called the cops.

What the fuck is wrong with people? Every day I work at that place, I lose a little more faith in humanity.


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