Waiting Casually

Here’s a story with a moral in it somewhere, but it’s Monday, I’m drowsy, and I’m typing this at work, so that should tell you something.

Anyway, this is a story about butt dust. Or toilet ash. Or something. Anyway, my company has occupied its current building for a little over two years now, so needless to say I’ve had some opportunities to use the facilities here a few times. And in the use of said facilities, I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon that had me puzzled until just a few moments ago.

On one particular toilet, I’ve occasionally noticed what appear to be little dust or ash motes on the seat. Not a lot. Just a few. Each little mote about the size of a pin head and there might be 10-15 of these little guys on the seat (I call them guys because they are in the men’s bathroom after all). When I first saw them I didn’t know what to make of them. I mean, what is one to think upon seeing this on the seat? I just got some toilet paper and wiped them off before I used the toilet.

I wish I remember what I thought the second time though. Like, ‘Whoah. That wasn’t a one-time occurrence. Some dude’s butt is chronically dusty enough to deposit yet more dust/ash/whatever on this seat,’ probably isn’t too far off. That’s a disturbing thought, too. On a scale of 1-10 of disturbance, the first time was probably a 1. Like, ‘Hrm.’ The second though probably skipped right on up to level 4: ‘Ew, gross. C’mon.’

And that’s what I thought. Someone with dusty butt worked in my office. That was the only explanation right? It wasn’t always there, obviously because Mr. Ashy Butt and I weren’t on the same schedule or someone had used the toilet and wiped it off before I used the toilet or he didn’t go at work that day. Of course. What else could it be?

And so over the past two years, I probably encountered the butt dust a dozen or so times, with my disturbance level waxing and waning depending on the frequency with which I saw it or my mood of the day. And my reality was that there was a gentlemen coworker on my floor with serious hygiene issues.

Until today.

Today my reality changed.

As I said at the start, I haven’t been in the best mood today, and so that’s likely why when greeted by butt dust again on the seat of the toilet I was going to use, my disturbance level peaked and I threw back my head and uttered an ‘Oh god,’ at the ceiling, my eyes rolling upward.

To the air conditioning vent.

With a dusty grille.

Right above the toilet.

‘Oh,’ I said.

And so on this day, June 8th, 2009, the mystery of Mr. Dusty Butt was solved. Mark your calendars.

What’s the moral? You tell me. There’s more than enough there for a changing perspectives one, or a not making assumptions one, or whatever.