I walk into the men’s room, use it, and head to the sink to wash my hands. What do I see?
Puddles. Puddles of water pooled on the Formica counter. Puddles on all four sides of the sink. Puddles on the floor. Puddles everywhere.
I step back. It’s like trying to wash your hands at a bird bath, for pity’s sake.
In my place of employment, there are, theoretically and probably chronologically, no children. It’s a building full of, presumably, adults. I have children, and when they were younger, they had a hard time reaching the sink sometimes. They also enjoyed playing in the water, as most children do during tactile developmental stages. So, there was a mess around the sink many times, and we knew exactly why.
I can’t answer that at my place of work. I can’t find any reason, in light of the occupants of our workplace, why there’d be water all over the sink, the mirror, the floor. None.
And my kids, now, have outgrown their fascination with playing in the running water. They can also reach the sink now, and subsequently the sink isn’t a disaster when they’re finished washing their hands anymore. The one at my workplace is. Every. Day.
I stood there and asked aloud, to no one, “Who the hell’s bathing in the sink?!”
For full disclosure, I make a mess too. When I finish rinsing the soap off my hands, water drips onto the sink area. While I’m lathering soap on my hands, some water may splash on various surfaces. When I dry my hands, I take a last paper towel from the dispenser and wipe up the drips. And they’re drips, not puddles.
I almost want to stand in the bathroom and watch each person wash their hands. (There are those who can’t be blamed for the mess, because those filthy porcine slobs don’t wash their hands after using the bathroom; isn’t that an appetizing thought?) But it won’t make anyone change their disgusting habits. And it won’t make anyone grow a sense of responsibility.
So we have a birdbath in the men’s room. As it happens, that’s the men’s room in the main lobby of our building, where visitors will be should they need to use the facilities.
I’m sort of hoping one of them will complain. Maybe then management will force the adults in our building to, y’know…act like adults.
Probably not though.
Ready for a weekend? I sure am!
PS – Yes, I misspelled the same, simple word TWICE in this post. If you saw it and said nothing, thank you.
Image from here.