Today at work I noticed the third floor men’s bathroom was out of commission and an industrial fan was blocking the door.

“Hmm,” I mused. “That can’t be good.”

Jack, my co-worker, confirmed it.

“Nope, not good,” he said. “I guess I overloaded the system. When I flushed the other four overflowed. Crazy.”

“Solidarity!” I said, raising my fist in the air before jogging off to find a nice corner to vomit in. “No more microwave burritos for you, Jack!”

Office pooping can be a touchy subject. Do you or don’t you? Should you or shouldn’t you? IS there a choice? Me? I’d rather drive a half a mile to Ikea and drop my kids off at the Swedish wonderland’s pool rather than have someone who signs off on my expense reports hear, smell, or see the ass apple I left in the company’s plumbing. I suspect most women would agree. Guys are different. When they gotta go, it goes something like this:

  • Grab a newspaper from the receptionist’s desk.
  • Poop

Women prefer the comforts of their own latrines, but sometimes our bowels get a case of wanderlust and crave a change of scenery. Should you poo in your company’s loo, you likely fall into one of these crap camps:

The Ninja: She is silent, she is deadly she is not moving a sphincter muscle until this place is empty. Most likely she’s taking up residence in the stall furthest from the door because of course. No one can hear you when you’re all of eleven feet away.

The Squatter: A variation of the Ninja, she has the determination and quad strength to wait you out. A trained Squatter can go all night. If there are other butts on seats, not even a team of Navy SEALs can free a turd from the bowels of a Squatter.

The Noise-Maker: Is it New Years freakin’ Eve in there? This pooper will employ a number of noisy tactics to distract from the job at hand. Tactics include but are not limited to:

  • shuffling of feet
  • clearing throat
  • coughing
  • nose blowing
  • sneezing
  • jiggling of toilet paper dispenser
  • excessive flushing
  • excessive rustling of feminine hygiene product wrappers
  • repeated slamming of sanitary napkin trash can lid
  • repeated jiggling of sanitary napkin waste bag

Ladies, I ask you. Is it better to live under the guise of having the WORLD’S LOUDEST PERIOD than copping to a morning brownie disposal?

The Multi-Tasker: Is she trying to cover up the sound of splashing logs or really just too busy to take a call at her desk? Not sure, but depending on who she’s talking to, it’s the next best thing to enjoying the latest issue of Us Weekly and fresh-brewed coffee on the crapper. Nothing says “Respect” like “Hang on, I gotta flush.”

The Boss: She’s gonna leave a smear like she just don’t care and that’s because she doesn’t. This rectum warrior is all business and doesn’t give a shit who sees, hears, or smells her ass agenda. Like a boss, I tell you!

The Getaway Girl: Leave a message, Mother Nature! The Getaway Girl has no time for bodily functions. No way will The Getaway Girl be caught with her pants down. She’s in, she’s out, and she’s leaving floaters and skid marks in her wake. Look, lady, I know you’d rather have that video of you dirty dancing to Love Shack at the company picnic go viral, but when something powerful enough to chip porcelain exits your body, you need to stick around for a double flush.

The Interval Trainer: Is it better to let it all out and bear the shame or keep it in and bear the pain? The Interval Trailer is a firm believer in savoring the moment meaning she’ll spread out every gurgle, blip, pffffft, and kersplash just to confuse the other occupants senses. Was that her shoe catching on the tile or a fart? Is the printer outside jamming again or is your stall mate squeezing an ass lemon? Wait. Was that her stomach or yours? Holy shit, you gotta get out of there!

Ladies, it’s time we loosen up. Everyone poops. Shit happens. Live and let doodoo. Instead of hiding it, let’s take pride in it. And then for goodness sake, flush it down. Twice.

About the author: Shelly Mazzanoble has written columns and essays for In the Power Room, Scary Mommy Pregnant Chicken and has had the pleasure of a syndicated and original post published with Blunt Moms. She also writes the humor column, Mom in the Middle, for Seattle-based parenting organization, Program for Early Parent Support (PEPs.) Follow her at


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  1. Karen allen Reply

    i love reading these as I can see so much of the truth and reality in my own life but I don’t understand why the “f” word seems to always be included for absolutely no obvious reason. Is it required?

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