Corporate Poop Oppression

Posted 04.28.2003 by Epitaph (33)

I am currently giving serious thought to taking my boss to the civil courts for his impertinence regarding my shitting activities.

It used to be that one was able to set one's watch by the stunning temporal uniformity of my ablutions. 8:57 AM every morning -- WITHOUT FAIL -- I would experience the occasionally inconvenient (but always reassuring) tug of the turd on my pert, perfectly formed sphincter, alerting me of the need to make my toilet. Despite working in a busy office, it was my custom to loudly clear my throat, gather up my fountain pen with a flourish, purposefully thrust it into the inner pocket of my tweed jacket, and saunter off with a freshly ironed copy of The Times under my arm. This was the commonly accepted signal within the office that I was desirous of "crimping one off." For the most part, courteous nods and envious glances were exchanged. The sole exception was that of the office junior -- "Five Bellies" Dawson, a man who was at the mercy of indescribably severe constipation. His ill-tempered scowls as I made my way to the shitter in no way undermined my confidence as I keenly anticipated venting a solid dreadnaught.

But recently I received a promotion that necessitated moving to our corporate headquarters. I was somewhat querulous at the thought of immersing myself in the nest of devious back-stabbers that comprise the head office; however, I was much reassured when at 8:57 AM on my very first day I felt the familiar tug on my barking spider. I made a fruitless search for the men's convenience. With no luck, I was forced to make a discrete enquiry with Miss Bickerstaff, the office manager, as to the location of gent's washroom. A glance at the paper under my arm left her no doubt as to the purpose of my visit, and she wrinkled her nose and pointed me in the appropriate direction with barely concealed contempt.

By this time, the need to curl one down was quite urgent -- the irregular length of my stride would have alerted anyone who cared to notice that I was harboring a dirt snake under the counter. My haste to unburden myself of my burgeoning load lead me to fail to register that the shitter door was directly opposite my manager's office.

I settled down and unleashed a beefy anaconda with sufficient force to lift me off the seat. I was only dimly aware of someone entering the adjacent stall as I luxuriated in the shit-afterglow, gingerly opening the sports section to familiarize myself with the latest cricket scores.

My reverie was rudely broken by the unearthly commotion from stall of my anonymous companion. The sounds that accompanied the evacuation of his bowels could have been mistaken for a grizzly bear being slaughtered in the most brutal fashion. The acrid parfum de plop that assailed my nostrils had me clawing at my collar.

But the ferocity of the activity was matched by the speed of it, for my unknown tormentor was out of there before I had a chance to draw breath and remonstrate with the filthy swine who didn't even have the good grace to wash his hands. Perhaps he was just racing against the smell -- I myself was soon feverishly scrabbling at the stall door in a desperate effort to escape the enveloping stench that threatened my sanity, if not my life. Despite my acute discomfort, however, I kept my wits about me, and washed my hands before staggering out of the toilet, determined to learn the identity of my shit assailant and take them to task.

I emerged into the corridor, desperately trying to control my irregular breathing, only to be confronted by my boss. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THERE?" he demanded, his excessive volume alerting the entire bloody corridor to my predicament. The question was heavily loaded -- surely he wasn't accusing me of doing something unspeakable, such as shaking hands with the one-eyed milkman?!?!

Then it hit me. He, my boss, was the dirty fucker who only moments earlier had used the "Shock and Awe" shitting technique with devastating effectiveness! I was about to protest his hypocrisy when he cut me off. "Were you....READING in there??" he intoned darkly.

I was struck with total confusion. I considered bellowing back, "Of course I was, you uneducated fuckwit, doesn't everyone?" but common sense prevailed and I merely nodded my assent, head bowed. The shit-fascist then proceeded to chew me out at maximum volume regarding the headquarters policy vis-é-vis reading in the shitter. To do so, apparently, is the domain of the work shy and lazy. My whole world was turned upside down.

As a result of this shocking incident, I have suffered severe psychological injury. The Shameless Shitting Manifesto is beyond my reach now, I fear. My bowel movements are irregular, and I suffer from shitsophrenia, whereby my stools change daily from watery squirts to numerous misshapen rabbit droppings without rhyme or reason. My forays to the lavatory, once so carefree, are now pre-empted by surreptitious glances around the office and muttering about "going to the bank to pay some bills" before folding the paper many times over to get it to fit, out-of sight, in my jacket pocket.

Does anybody think that I have a good case on which to pursue my boss through the Courts for this unwarranted attack on my toilet habits?

-- Epitaph

email this page | printer friendly version

Mr. Dirty (not verified) -- 04.28.2003

That was an unfortunate tale of fecal fascism. It's a shame that some who climb the ladder to success forget about the simple things in life. It seems that in this day and age, the only time people have that is truly their own is when they are sitting on the john. I feel you pain my friend. Good luck!

The Big Wiper (2245) -- 04.28.2003

Oh, man, do I sympathize with what you're going through. My current job situation is that I travel a territory for two companies and also spend some time at home writing, but before I found my niche, I tried the 9 to 5, corporate world in which you now toil. One of the very worst workplace experiences I ever had was under the supervision of a former Army officer who had transferred all of his anal retentive skills to civilian life just before I gained employment with the same organization.

He was all about military punctuality and accountability on a second-to-second basis. I clearly remember him accosting me upon arriving at work at 8:31 instead of 8:30, telling me I spent too much time in the shitter because the cleaning lady was complaining that she couldn't get in there in the mornings while I was trying to enjoy my usual studied crap, and other mega-jackass behavioral characteristics. I lasted exactly one year at that organization, basically driven away because he treated me (and everyone else) like a fourth-grader coming in from recess.

Regarding your legal question, it sounds tenuous to me, unfortunately, but I am not a lawyer. My Dad was--maybe I could ask him. Failure to follow workplace rules can be grounds for dismissal, even though this particular rule is, to my way of thinking, cruel and unusual punishment for those of us who regard our time on the crapper as sacred/a form of meditation/not to be toyed or fucked with.

I was noting with great appreciation the difference between your style on the pot and that martinet of a boss you have. And it pains me to think that your system is having to pay the price for his micro-management of your most personal inner workings. It's not even a question of shameful versus shameless, which I'm sure you would gladly take as an alternative under these grievous circumstances. It's almost potty persecution.

I would last exactly one trip to the crapper at your workplace. It sounds like the entire office is filled with shit-taking haters and bathroom bullies. For someone like myself who is at the opposite end of the spectrum when it comes to attitudes about moving one's bowels in peace and without shame regardless of format, the situation would be intolerable.

My bottom line here is that the mentality of your workplace is the best argument I can think of for advocating more enlightened, shameless and liberated attitudes towards pooping/peeing, etc. Your office is almost in the Dark Ages of Defecation as far as I'm concerned.

BTW, you are an excellent wordsmith, my friend. It was a pleasure to read your stuff. And I am looking forward to any feedback you give us from your upcoming trip to Alaska.

Poop Oppression Sucks Big Time!

Tydirium (516) -- 04.28.2003

I'd say something, but The Big Wiper already used up all the words. Save some for the fishes! jesus

Gutbuster (112) -- 04.28.2003

My good friend Mr Epitaph, surely you who are motivated enough to not only seek but also to accept a promotion must not be ready for the climb up the corporate ladder! You must take note my friend of your boss. He is the opitomy of success.

You don't see him carrying newspapers to the toilet. NOOOO. He marches in, regardless of who may be in the stall next to him, he slamms the stall door shut, drops his drawers, hits the seat and blows his load of shit with all of the power and urgency of a high dollar corporate raider!!

He wipes his ass with exactly 13 squares and he only wipes once, because he eats healthy foods that promote speedy shats. He is up and gone, why waste time washing your hands if you haven't actually touched any of the dirty doo? And he is back to work.

YOU on the other hand, walk casually to the throne of choice, squat, read, plop, read some more, plop, read, plop and then finish plopping and then you continue to read!

You took the promotion man, now live up to your image as a succesful young executive! Next time, hold your shit man, wait for your boss to go to the can, blast in behind him, into your stall, squat shit, wipe and run BEFORE he has a chance to finish!

Make that impression. This time instead of everyone looking up and down the cooridor at the boss screaming at what a lazy fuck you are, they will see him stand there with his hand on your shoulder inviting you to lunch or a game of afternoon golf or something.

READING on the toilet?!! Never! Golf and fucking around on a three martini lunch? Now that's okay. Me? I refuse to take a promotion, I refuse to give up my crap in comfort lifestyle. I NEER shit at home, I save it for the payroll man. I refuse to shit unless I am getting paid for it, everday at 10am and again at 3 pm, I shit AND READ in the basement of our office building. No One goes down here. I have my magazine rack on the wall, loaded with good stuff, extra toilet paper, spray cleaner for the seat if I need it and I also have a decorative tree in there thatI light up at Christmas time. You need to go back down the ladder or learn to shit like a CEO!!

Mastercrapper (159) -- 04.28.2003

OK -- this truly has me worried. As many of you who have followed my grad student travails know, I'm leaving behind Cambridge's finest marble stools for the corporate world in just two weeks. I have no fear about fitting in with bankers - I made it thru the first year of B-school no prob - but I am terrified that I'm not going to be able to strip down and slip one out.

Your beautifully described predicament has me quaking with fear, Epitaph.

Gutbuster (112) -- 04.28.2003

Shaking hands with the one-eyed milkman cracked me up! And the mental image of you in the hallway with the boss screaming "What did you do in there" everyone looking at you...I can just see your facial answer "UHHHHHHHHHHH.....". Spit it out boy, were you READING in there?

The Big Wiper (2245) -- 04.28.2003

Hey, Ty, what can I say, dude? Shameless Shitter's my name; wall-to-wall writing's my game! Think they'll have to bury me with a sock in my big mouth? LOL!gutbuster, you have slayed me with your manic prose as usual. Good thing you're on the side of the pooping angels, you crusty Alaskan, you!

doniker (1534) -- 04.28.2003

"harboring a dirt snake under the counter" & "shaking hands with the one-eyed milkman". Those had me laughing out loud.

Hey Ty, The Big Wiper really irritates me too. He has totally dominated PoopReport. I can never read what he says anymore...TOO MUCH BORING CONTENT.

Pooperscooper (not verified) -- 04.29.2003

Are you in the UK or one of the Commonwealth countries? If so, the American legal concept of 'hostile workplace environment' may or may not apply to your situation.

You have to decide what the trade off is between your promotion, and your mental/rectal health. If I had nothing to lose by way of job security or notoriety, Id love to sue your bastard of a boss, just to publicly expose him as the turd terrorist that he is.

Your boss may be from the upper classes, but he is no gentleman. Gentlemen do not abuse, humiliate or molest their subordinates.

He's a cad. We can only pity his wife and family--unless they've divorced him.

the_brown_word (not verified) -- 04.29.2003

Man, I would be so pissed off if I got a ration of shit for reading while shitting. WHat a load of horsepuckey. I've been meaning to say that.

But seriously! To be guilty of reading while shitting. How terrible. I must admit, I have nary the time to do such things as I am the fastest shitter in the west, but I can empathize and i think thats utter lameness. What a crappy boss.

adude (not verified) -- 04.29.2003

I feel your pain. Currently I have no issues about poop at work cause I have privacy. I do fear when I get into a real career and face the poop challenges that will come my way.

As for your boss, I really do suggest you look for another job and then consult a lawyer to see if you have any legal recourse. Psychological harm aside, the employer might have broken a company policy about how employees are told about policies they are in violation of. BTW, did they ever furnish you with a handbook of company rules and regulations? If they did not you might have a case. Get a lawyer and never settle for some job you are unhappy with. Life is too short to suffer psychological harm and endure poor quality poops for the sake of a paycheck.

kiteless (not verified) -- 04.29.2003

all i can say is wow, what a predicament. luckly, at my old job when i was luckily enough to have one, my boss had iritable bowel syndrome and was in the shitter atleast half the day. she totally understood the need for relaxed shittying time so we were lucky in that respect. i also sat about 10 feet from the ladies, so it was a nice short walk for me. legally, i don't think you ahve any recourse, i would try and change your shitting time to either later in the day when the rat bastard isn't there, or at home. should take you about a week but its doable. good luck my friend, and a fabulous piece of writing!

Thong Bae "James" Penis (not verified) -- 05.01.2003

George W. Bush with his

Small penis in hand beats off

On top of the toilet

a repooplican (not verified) -- 07.23.2003

Well James Penis, you must be a Democrap

Slim Jim Junkie (not verified) -- 08.05.2003

I hate Bush bashers!

ex-lax_ohmygod (not verified) -- 08.27.2003

well i liked the way you use so many metaphores

Stinky Pete (not verified) -- 09.18.2003

Why not ask your boss if a policy exists that covers the washing one's hands after squeezing the cheese?

Corporate Society Hater (not verified) -- 10.10.2003

If I was in your shoes, I would be tearing your boss a new asshole ! What a micromanaging asshole. Those are the kind of people I take great pleasure in pissing off. This would call for payback and payback is hell.

It is funny where I work at, I work in a 5 story building and our company takes up the whole 4th and 5th floor and part of the 3rd. I usually go to the 3rd or 2nd floor to take a shit. Those bathrooms have very little traffic compared to the 4th & 5th floor. I like my privacy when I take a shit.

Stroonza (not verified) -- 11.04.2003

EPI--You can really tell a story. I recommend that you roll your paper around a can of Glade Spring Morning air freshener. When the perp shitter's let a blue cloud loose, give a spray.

The Shit Volcano (3740) -- 02.05.2004

Go James Penis! But you forgot to add the verse about his cronies watching from the sidelines.

I Hate Asshole Bosses (not verified) -- 11.25.2006

Sounds like my old manager. When I needed to take a shit at work, I go to a different floor, preferably a bathroom that got little use in a course of a day. One day, one of his "favored" boys saw me go use the out of way bathroom and reported me. I got called in and was proceeded to be given a chewing out. The normal bathroom, even for men, you had to wait 5 to 10 minutes to use the can especially around lunch. I was then told that using the bathroom was not a right, but a privilege. I was then told that if I had to wait, too bad.

Luckily, I don't work for him anymore !

Shits-Like-Lightning (not verified) -- 09.23.2008

while i object to what your boss did, i also object to all of you "readers" out there. I never take more than one minute, and rarely more than 30 seconds. Yeah, I am in and out like lightning. I do not want to enjoy the waftage of others bowels, nor mine. If some poor old sod winds up reading his paper in the wake of my dinner from last night, that's his problem for staying in there too long with his crossword.

shitwit (571) -- 09.23.2008

Shits-like-lightning: I'm so happy for you that you can shit and run. Do you even bother to wash your hands afterwards?

_______
Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!