I know, I know I tried it before. Didn’t work. It seems the concept of a great title is as subjective as a chicken-or-egg discussion My readers are to clever for me and they are needy people who wants the content to entertain and engage them. So this time around, the title has EVERYTHING to do with the content of this post.
On the photo is the door to the men’s restroom on our floor of the office building I work in. It’s the same door I use to get rid of the excess liquid I now have to consume as part of my getting-a-six-pack-before-forty project that’s never going to happen. Unless wine becomes a health drink or pigs fly. It’s also the same door I use when I want to get away from it all and spend some time discharging. 😉
So imagine my surprise when good old faithful suddenly turned into a scene from CSI. I normally wait until my bladder is the size of the Grand Canyon before I leave my desk, so I didn’t have time to fully appreciate the weirdness of the door, until I returned a few minutes lighter. This time armed with my mobile phone. By the way, thanks to the idiot doctor who went on national television and told everyone that the Germ king and his army is sitting on the loo waiting to ambush the first electronic device they see.
Which leaves me without any arguments for tweeting in those more private, quiet moments of my life. But I’m losing track here. Getting back to the door.
I am not sure who did this, I’m hoping it’s the maintenance crew. I also do not have the foggiest idea why they would think that the door needs to be handled like a crime scene of a mass murder. We are all educated men here, and the “Please do not use” sign would have sufficed in my opinion. Besides the funky odour hanging around the door this morning is more than enough to stop me from entering. Someone must have left a bio-hazard behind, which makes it lethal to enter. (Must admit we do consume some spicy-Indian-sweat-like-a-hippo-hot food here on Fridays.)
As a writer my imagination is never grounded under normal situations, so picture if you will the surreal smile that formed around the corners of my mouth upon finding this little oddity. Work became a distant reality, there were so many options, so many opportunities. As a new-found fan of flash-fiction I decided to write three different versions of what’s behind the door to the loo.
So check out my next three posts, and don’t worry, I will limit each of them to 500 words.