I know what you're doing in there.

Corporate life is still relatively new to me. I’m still getting used to the intricacies and politics of navigating this weird big world. There’s a lot of politeness, which is good. There’s a lot of self-importance, which is less good. Power struggles are an interesting thing to watch, made more fascinating when they are completely passive-aggressive in nature.

But the best part, for me, most days, is the water machine. Its benefits are twofold: first, I am wonderfully hydrated. Secondly, I fundamentally cannot sit in my seat for more than about 15 minutes at a time before my mind wanders and my butt sleeps, so it provides a much-needed destination. The only downside, obviously, is that my time in the bathroom has increased exponentially.

I’m not sure if this is a corporate thing so much or not, but weird stuff happens to women in a public bathroom, particularly one where you know the folks on either side of you fairly well. It’s the oddest space of all for one of those passive-aggressive standoffs, and it happens all the time.

It’s like a cold poop war zone in there. Since passive-aggressive really isn’t my style, I’m going to come right out and tell you, I know what you’re doing. So:

• You don’t need to fake cough. I know you’re there. The door is shut. And you have feet.

• You don’t need to blow your nose. I know you’re there. Door shut; feet. And that has got to be wreaking havoc on your kegel muscles, trying to hold in and blow out at the same time. Eesh. Ouch.

• Or unroll the toilet paper incessantly. Are you bored in there? Are you just trying to get my attention? You know who plays with toilet paper to get attention? Pets. My cats do that. Actually, only one of my cats does that. The other one knows that’s just a plain stupid way to try and get someone’s attention.

• Or continue the small talk, as if we were sitting across from one another at a charming café table. Concentrate, lady. Task at hand. Eye on the prize.

• Or hold a seated stand-off. I’m sorry, the rule should be: first one in gets to go. If you need to... you know... and someone is already in there, coughing and blowing her nose and unrolling the toilet paper, you need to wait. First come, first served. It applies in nearly every other scenario, and it should apply here as well. Don’t sit down and then start your own coughing/blowing/unrolling assault. It’s not your turn. It’s rude.

• And finally, and I can’t believe I have to say this to a bunch of grown-ass women, the courtesy flush. It’s not just an expression, people. It’s not a myth. It’s not an option. It’s a real thing. Push the button. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. If you’re going to sit there for 45 minutes ensuring no one has to hear you go, why oh why are you going to make sure that, once you leave, everyone knows you’ve gone?

Okay. Fifteen minutes is up. I need water.


When interviewing subjects for this post topic, which I didn’t actually do, a co-worker (The Funny One, obv) reminded me that I've actually already written about this.