I once worked at a place where the corporate bathroom was more like a living room: couches, a little TV, even a little sewing kit for those early-morning seam splittings. Hated the company, loved the bathroom. Sometimes I think I should’ve stayed there.
The bathroom, not the company.
My current corporate bathroom is a no-frills affair. Five toilets, two sinks, a petting zoo.
OK. There’s no petting zoo. But there should be. It would take the edge off the day.
If I ran corporate bathrooms, they’d look different. Sure, I’d keep the toilets. Seems only right. But there’d be other things as well.
Free “feminine hygiene” – as opposed to the “masculine hygiene” – products. Not to take home and stock up on, you understand, but for those “what the !@#$?” moments.
Hairspray. And not that stinky, sticky stuff, either. The shiny stuff.
I would like a random person – perhaps a different employee every day, perhaps in exchange for lunch – to come in and hand out compliments, i.e., “that’s a great color on you!” Or “for all that sweating you’re doing, you don’t smell at all!" Special treats will be assigned for those giving out the most original compliments, i.e., “you really kept your composure at the last meeting. I don’t think anyone knew how badly you needed to pee.” or “when that guy in the meeting said the economic downturn was really a “blessing in the skies” I think you did a very good job of keeping a straight face”.
How about music, or, at the very least, a recording of a waterfall? How many things are as awkward as a couple of people in the bathroom, each waiting for the other to “go” first? Think it doesn’t happen? Think again, my friend. Women all over the U.S. are wishing that other person would just leave...
Hey. These are really pretty good. I should send them to HR.
They’re all off the top of my head, of course. I have a chart at home -- I could show you! -- but I’m confident that my suggestions will be met with their approval.
I probably shouldn’t spend the bonus they’re sure to award me just yet, though.