Sometimes, the strangest things interrupt the most innocent of tasks.
As usual, this being Friday and all, the communications center bathrooms were locked up tight with a bright pink, hand scrawled note, stapled, not taped, stapled, to the door proclaiming that the washrooms were out of service for maintenance. I don’t know what the boys in the Janitorial Pool are up to but it shouldn’t take every Friday for the last three months to finish fixing what needs to be fixed. I suspect they were playing a joke on our section’s illustrious head honcho, who, as is his custom, was nowhere to be seen.
I really had to go.