Mar 14 2017

To let

The office where I work, is currently having a refurbishment.

This has caused quite an upheaval, as whole departments have had to up-sticks and relocate in other parts of the building, whilst their section is being overhauled. It’s like we are playing musical offices, or something.

But, everyone is mucking in and sitting on each others’ laps and getting on with it.

However, one of the major sufferances that we have had to put up with whilst the work is going on, is a reduction in the number of toilets that are available to us. The men’s toilets, for instance, have reduced from six to two.

That means, for the first time ever, we are having to put up with something that women have to put up with all the time: queueing for a wee.

It’s ridiculous! There have been several times when I have been so desperate to go, that I have considered nipping round the back of the building and peeing in the bushes.

But the smokers might complain.

Last week, I desperately needed a poo. I don’t normally do that when I’m at work, but a large meal at the Toby Carvery the night before, meant my morning routine just wasn’t enough.

With both of the men’s toilets having a red indicator on the door showing that they were engaged, I decided to risk the downstairs uni-sex toilet.

I say “risk” because it has a dodgy lock, so only the most desperate tended to use it, but I was touching cloth at this point, so in I went.

I did my best to make sure it was locked, pulling on the handle to see if it opened… which it didn’t.

Quickly, I plonked myself down on the crapper and started to go through the motions.

I’d only been in there twenty seconds when I heard the outside door open. Immediately, I tried to put my foot in front of the door, but I couldn’t reach, and it suddenly burst open as the busted lock gave way to the heavy shove it had received.

“Oh, I am sorry”, said Linda, looking slightly embarrassed as she turned and fled.

I sat there with my trousers around my ankles and the unreachable door slightly ajar, as I finished my business.

Out in the lobby, Linda was seated at the reception desk. I smiled and she gave a knowing nod as I walked past, but we’ve not spoken since.

I’m sure we’ll be fine… once she gets out of therapy.


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    • Alan on March 15, 2017 at 07:51

    Hope you had one of these to hand.
    Bet she feels really down in the dumps now.

      • Masher on March 15, 2017 at 12:42

      OMG! Is that real?
      Only in America.

        • Alan on March 15, 2017 at 19:08

        As advertised on ITV and on sale in Tesco

    • Frances on March 15, 2017 at 08:47

    You have to laugh…well I am !

      • Masher on March 15, 2017 at 12:44

      Huh! Glad someone finds it funny 🙁

    • Brennig on March 15, 2017 at 17:09

    I have just had several really good lols at your expense. You can send me the invoice later.

      • Masher on March 15, 2017 at 21:03

      Nah, I don’t do it for the money.


  1. Men don’t have to queue to wee. That’s why God made trees. Or maybe you could put the smokers out?

    Linda needs to accept the progressive movement towards all gender bathrooms.

      • Masher on March 16, 2017 at 15:04

      Well, she had to accept my movements, if nothing else.

    • Arthur Pewty on March 26, 2017 at 17:55

    Talking of office refurbishments… well not really but I suppose the following bombshell is along those lines, any road up I’ve been told by an unreliable rumourteer that the old Hemel office that we had so many larks in is being closed.

    Apparently the newly acquired Arqiva offices in downtown Hemel are to be utilised to house everyone from the old Maxted road site.

    Sad days indeed. For us old inmates anyway.

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