Do you know why I shit at work? The toilet paper is free.

Privacy on the other hand is not an easy commodity to come by. See, like all men of great worth and intelligence, I like to be left alone to do my business. Pass the time, so to speak, alone. But being that I work near a loading dock with a group of blue suited packaging baboons that are aloof of the concept of bowel movements in peace, I find it especially difficult to pass on my waste. If they see my shoes, I'm done for. They suddenly want to break out into a concerned and earnest conversation about the ethics of animal cloning, or the pope's health, or, god forbid, the cathartic Red Sox Sob™. All the while during these conversations, the uncomfortable bathroom sounds, oh lord, that I was deaf! So, aside from trying to lift my legs up above the "gap" and brace my feet on either side of the stall, putting true aim in jeopardy, I have instead started a little game I'm tentatively calling "Find an Empty Restroom, Quick!" Now, I work in a semi-large company, two good-sized buildings, both six stories tall, each with at least 2 bathrooms on each floor. You can imagine the excitement of this game. Floor to floor to floor, to across the street, to the next floor, on and on. Dodge a supervisor there, outwit security here, skirt under cameras and biometric screens, just to find that one blessed sanctuary, that one quiet place to squat. Quick! My spirit and my bowels are thankful, and I get a little exercise.

This has nothing to do with what I wanted to talk about though. It's not really about shitting; it's about putting up with shit. Today, after a harrowing hour of "Find an Empty Restroom, Quick!" I was called into a training class with the eye-gouging title of "Nurturing a Respectful Work Environment." Note: This torture was mandatory, spoons would be provided for all those who wanted to cleave their own hearts from their chests (but not from co-worker's chests, because that would be disrespectful, unless, of course, they asked politely.) What was it exactly? Oh, nothing really. Read this here, watch movie there, follow advice. To summarize, don't talk to, look at, leer toward, touch, scowl near, smile around, suggest anything to, berate, compliment anyone, period. If you do you'll be sued and probably castrated. Ouch! Needless to say, I have taken all the spare cardboard boxes around the place and improved my cubicle to cube. There is one door at the very bottom that I can fit into if I slide on my belly, and that is all I need. A blindfold and a gag make up for my journey there.