Friday morning, I got in to the office around 6:10 am or so. As you can imagine, the building is not exactly teeming with life at that hour. There are a few other early birds like me, but for the most part it's pretty barren.
I like my coffee. I generally drink a full cup on the way to work. What this means from a practical standpoint is that (a) I don't fall asleep and drive into a bridge abutment, and (b) by the time I get to work I have to pee.
I went to my desk, and got involved in rebooting smtp servers or some such, and by the time I was done, my bladder was close to its limit. This was the unfortunate reason that I burst through the men's room door so quickly at approximately 6:45, only to surprise the crap out of some person I never saw before. What was this person doing the exact second I came crashing in?
He was diligently checking out his bare ass in the mirror, of course. What else would someone be doing in a bathroom at 6:45 in the morning?
Why, I do not know. Perhaps he missed a spot shaving. Perhaps he went hiking Thursday and was doing a post-hike tick inspection. As I said, I don't know, and don't want to know.
Also, before your imagination runs away with you, it's not like he was standing on the sink or anything. For some unknown reason, our men's room contains a full-length mirror. Presumably, this mirror is not for ass-inspection, but who am I to say? Other people might (and apparently do) have a different opinion on that matter. Anyway, he quickly zipped up and left, and now I have someone else at work to avoid in the hallways.
That was the first thing. The second thing - while not quite as shocking on the surface - has deeper implications. The two handicap-accessible stalls have railings in them. Draped over these railings you will sometimes see reading material that consists of newspapers, magazines, and other assorted printed matter. I never, ever touch this, because I know the dirty habits of my coworkers, and I am 100% sure that no matter what it is, it contains traces of fecal matter on its well-thumbed pages.
Anyway, the thing I noticed hanging over the railing the other day was: A Victoria's Secret catalog. I suppose there is a remote possibility that some guy was looking for a present for his wife, but I'm thinking not.
All I know is, I don't ever want to walk in on anything that involves that.