The flood that brought back the pain happened about mid-piss, and it had nothing to do with kidney stones. It was a flood of memories, and it was triggered by the fact that the bathroom had finally been cleaned. You see, it would seem my employer has changed the mixture of chemicals they use to sanitize the little boys room, and those that they now use, and I swear I am not making this up, smell a lot like the perfume an ex-girlfriend of mine used to wear.
An ex-girlfriend whose association with me did not end well. At all. Actually it was OK for her, but kinda bad for me. I'm over it now though.
Twitch.....twitch.....why are you looking at me like that? You've never seen a man chug scotch out of a bottle before? Totally over her......shake.....twitch.....
So half my brain was dealing with the memory flood, and the other half was determining it was highly implausible that this woman had ever spritzed a little bathroom cleaner on her pulse points before going out for the evening. This led me to the only logical conclusion possible:
My employer has specifically formulated the scent of it's disinfectant to further their goal of breaking me.
The good news is that the infrequency of their bathroom cleaning and the fact I get fewer and fewer chances to take advantage of the facilities amongst the ever increasing crush of pill seeking barbarians will work against their plan. I fully expect in the near future though, they will hire my ex-wife as a pharmacy tech and my alcoholic Dad as perhaps the store manager. My theory is that it saves them money somehow if they can drive me to suicide instead of just firing me or hiring a contract killer.
I only hope the drive will be a short one.
12 comments:
Screw her. You're too cool to waste a second's thought over her. You ought to be out banging Hooter's chicks or strippers or something cool like that ;-)
Just out of idle curiousity, what perfume did the evil wench wear?
HUGS!
Well, clearly, she wore eau de toilette....
...what sunflower said.
More hugs......
MJ
Bill,
I just knew it by scent, never by name. Someone beat me to the eau de toilette joke....heh heh....
Wow you get to pee at work! After my second UTI (at a store with limited tech hours) I told my boss that I was going to start filing workers comp. Needless to say, I had a new "pharmacist will be back in a minute" sign in less than a week.
Would you seriously desire to continue dating a girl who wears perfume that smells like toilet bowl cleaner??
Two words: Higher. Standards.
"Well, clearly, she wore eau de toilette...."
Hysterical!!!
DM - You need to do what I do to get through annoying stuff like this. My ultimate distractor is called "Count the Camel Toes" which you can probably guess, entails watching people. I even started snapping pictures of them and blogged it until I ruffled some people's feathers. But you should seriously add some stats to your blog, counting them would be a good distractor. Stuff like "Hot chicks with toe", "Hanky chicks with toe", "Chicks with Whale Tail", "Soma Schemers", "Dorks with Butt smell" and the like. THen post the daily count. Let your boss see you logging stats like that on a sheet of paper and when he asks what's that all about, tell him "Oh, just some stats for my blog". He'll either fire you or fear you like you're frigging King Kong.
All the time we have been watching you I never considered you a fool. I admired your dogged determination in the face of advercity.
Did you really think such a beauty could be won over my some monkey swilling smock wearing nutjob?
She was there. In your piss room, collecting valueable information.
I just hope I haven't comprimised myself by identifying and outing her to you.
Go about your buisness.
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