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When do you know you're being appreciated at work?

Is it by the hearty thanks and slaps on the back at a job well done? How about the vivacious hand pumping and thousand watt smiles when you've saved your boss' bacon (for the umpteenth time)?? Maybe it's the dripping attention you receive everytime you walk down the hall, with shouts of rapture at your mere presense? No.

Thick toilet paper.

I know this, because the toilet paper on our floor is paper thin. Worse than paper thin, it's actually translucent. I kid you not. (I'll upload some pictures to show you later, but for now, believe me.) I mean, the toilet paper on our floor is so thin, you'd swear it's made from rice. Forget folding it twice to get the "two-ply" effect. You virtually need a train of paper the length of your arm, then wad it into the size of a cotton ball for it to be useful.

If it was any more sheer, you'd think it was silk. But alas, I know what silk looks and feel like, and it's definitely not like mini razor blades. The paper we have hurts like shaving with a dull blade without shaving cream. Talk about pavement pizza.... After using our toilet paper, you'll be scabbing for days.

To feel half-way sanitary, I needed half the roll just to line the seat. How gross is that?!

Then I wandered into the executive washroom.... man what a difference a couple of floors make!

Firstly, it was nicely decorated, with mood lighting and art nouveau lamp fixtures. Second, the walls were a nice dark grey with colour accents, which made me feel like I was at a trendy nightclub. Heck, it even smelled executive. I instantly felt I had just gotten a promotion, and this was my new office. Did I mention that the doors were made of wood, instead of the crappy, drab grey aluminium that I had been used to? I kept thinking, "I live in a place worse than this."

I opened the stall, expecting a wretched stench that would hit me in the face like a Mac truck. Instead, I smelt something totally foreign. Was it a meadow of spring roses with a hint of lilac? Or could it be tulips in a bouquet surrouded by petunias? I don't know, I've never smelled anything this nice before, except at The Bay's perfume section. I stood there for a brief second, inhaling and gulping the wonderful fragrance like a man who almost drowned. I was worried I'd never again smell anything as sweet.

I surveyed my stall. No! That word does it injustice. I marvelled at the 5 star "potty hotel", awed at the bone china-like bowl, so pristine and white, devoid of any unsightly stains. Even the plastic seat lid had a nice expensive sheen to it, like a new, black Ferrari in the midday sun. I grabbed a hold of the toilet paper. Hark! Was it cotton? Was it silk? No, it was spun from fluffy clouds of the heavens. Yes, it was bum wipe from the gods! My eyes watered, my lips trembled a silent, voiceless prayer. Oh my. I could so wear this!

The paper was thick and liciously soft, it felt like it was mink. I was used to having to tear the paper out by the teeth of the dispenser. Instead, the several sheets that I tore off ripped at the stitches, like it's supposed to.

I held my sheets up to the light, and it was like a solar eclipse. I couldn't seen anything. I also noticed that it had intricate patterns printed on the surface, like beautifully embroidered curtains at a luxury resort. I knew I was holding perfection. "My life is fulfilled. From this day forward, anything else that touches my bottom will feel like sandpaper." I think I cried.

See, that's why I hate my job. I thought I had obtained some status in life, working for a company that at least had toilet paper in every stall and on every floor, 24-7. Instead, I'm but an under-appreciated, over-worked, often snubbed little peon. I pain at my petty and pitiful existance. My life seems so meaningless now as I held the soft tissue to my face.

....I vow from now on to ALWAYS take the 4 flights of stairs up to the executive washroom, no matter the emergency.













posted by losir at 8:57 PM