I work in a hospital.
Hospitals are funny places. Subjects that don’t get discussed in CPA offices are freely talked about in hospitals. I don’t want to say it’s entirely like M*A*S*H, where you laugh to keep from crying, but it’s along that vein.
Long story short…
There are three bathrooms available to the general staff, which includes the nurses. One is the public bathroom, so we can write that off. We tend to keep to our own kind.
The second one is AT the nurses’ station. Everyone knows the rule about squatting where you eat. The nurses’ station bathroom is for #1 only. No exceptions. Everyone knows this. Or, should I say, everyone’s supposed to know this. It’s an unwritten social rule. It’s the same kind of thing that keeps men from using urinals next to other men. You skip one. You never take the one in the corner. You keep chit chat to a minimum, and your gaze at eye-level. Nobody has to tell you these things, you’re just supposed to know.
Someone didn’t know.
That’s my assumption, anyway. There’s a sign in the nurses’ station bathroom that says, “If you need to make a thunderous boom, take it to the locker room.”
This brings us to the more commonly used bathroom. The one buried in the back of the locker room. It’s the one that has the printed sign on the door that says “Thunderous Boom Room.” Now there’s no mystery. The locker room bathroom is an interesting place. It’s maybe 4 feet square. There’s the obligatory ladies things dispensary with M.T. scratched into the side. Is it really empty? Who knows? I’m not in the market. There are usually some paperbacks and/or magazines for those who need a little something to read. Oddly, there’s a tube of toothpaste next to a similarly sized tube of Preparation H. How did Preparation H get left in the bathroom? I don’t know. I just hope nobody brushes their teeth with Prep H. Or worse, the reverse of that. Eww.
There’s a giant spray can of Lysol, as if that’s going to do any good. Lastly, there’s a slide window with a stick-on etched glass panel for privacy. When someone makes a thunderous boom, then sprays a liberal dose of Lysol everywhere, they also open the window a foot. It’s winter! I’d rather smell the residue of someone’s boom than freeze my butt off on a toilet seat in a room that’s 8 degrees below zero!
Also, the door is very level. It doesn’t swing open or closed on its own. If it’s closed, someone’s in there. Most people open the door to the locker room, see the closed bathroom door, and turn around. Some wander all the way in and knock. Some jiggle the handle. Some knock WHILE jiggling the handle. Some jiggle the handle, wait a minute, THEN knock. There needs to be a better unwritten social rule for this. Not once have I ever found that door closed, but empty.