Mystery Solved: The Crusade of The Midnight Potty Perpatrator

Let's start this chat with a little Marcy Logic, shall we?

I work in a 46 (forty-six) story building with at least one men's and one women's bathroom on each floor (I say "at least" because The Man has his own en suite Princess Potty ... and if our own Man has his own can, I would imagine there are a few other boss mans in our building that won't take a leak among the public). In each ladies' restroom, there are 3 stalls. Now because I don't use the men's room, I'm going to go out on a limb and say for all intents and purposes, the men's bathroom has 3 stalls too ... plus probably a few gross urinals, but we'll leave those out of the equation. So we have at least 276 working toilets in the building. Our office up in the sky has anywhere from 30-50 people on any given day. I think only once during actual business hours have I ever had to wait for a stall to open up ... and we have quite a few females in the office. I understand that other floors are probably set up to fit more employees, so there may potentially be time to play the waiting game and maybe give your best potty dance a go.

Furthermore, when we first moved into our office back in August, our floor had been vacant for quite some time. So naturally, one could expect for the other building tenants that sandwich our floors to take a quick trip up/down the stair well and use the bathroom on our floor. But wouldn't it also be reasonable to think that once the floor becomes occupied, they would stop infiltrating our territory? I mean, I know the hydrant has already been marked, but it's ours now. Beat it! I remember some random lady that didn't work with us walking in as I was washing my hands saying, "Oh! Someone is actually on this floor now?" Yes ma'am. Now fly, fly, little birdie. Spread the word! Almost one year later, and people are still using our bathroom. I mean, it's probably not technically ours since it is out in the hall, outside of our doors, but we have the whole floor. And we pay rent. It's just ours, okay? Hmph.

One other restroom nugget (ew, that didn't sound quite right) for you to ponder is that our bathrooms have motion sensors. So after X amount of motionless time in the bathroom, the lights go out. A week or so ago, I got up to go to the bathroom. I opened the door, and the lights were off. I continue walking in quite content because I knew that meant no one had been in there for a while (i.e. no weird smells) and no one would be in there. I go into a stall, and just as I'm contemplating my latest potty pondering, I heard another toilet flush and the toilet paper rolling. Ok, wait ... *head tilt* ... I thought I was alone. The lights were DEFINITELY out. And I DEFINITELY did not hear anyone else come in behind me. Was this person peeing in the dark? Oh. OOoooh. Oh, Lord. I'm not sure at which point the lights go out, but how long had this person been in there? Oh, no. I had to get out quick before she assaulted my olfactory senses (not that ladies do that). I washed my hands and got the hell out of there. I was also afraid that she would come out while I was at the sink (even though I was curious who it was) and there'd be that whole extremely awkward moment like "I totally just caught you waging war under the cover of darkness."

Just this week I had another encounter with the Midnight Potty Perpatrator (I like nicknames, ok? They're fun and they come in handy). I walked in and the lights were definitely off. I go in to do my business, and heard another toilet flush. Only this time, she beat me to the sink. IT WAS SOMEBODY FROM A DIFFERENT FLOOR!!!! Can we just talk about this for a second? Am I the only one who finds it odd / a little rude that she felt the need to launchWorld Wars III & IV on our floor? I mean, I guess she didn't want the humiliation of her own co-workers catching her in the act ... in the dark ...  but really? Seriously? If our floor was still vacant, bomb away. But, please, PLEASE I BEG YOU, use your own floor's bathroom. Or become The Woman of your company and get your own Princess Potty. Thanks and Gig'em.

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Put That on Your Cup and Brew It

Dear Starbucks Barista (who bears an odd resemblance to Johnny Depp),

I was looking to you to jump start my day. I know it's Monday, but how 'bout not walking away (thrice, might I add) mid-order and let me know when you're ready so I don't have to repeat myself for the fourth time. I would greatly appreciate it. Also, contrary to your belief, I am not spitting out random letters when you ask me how to spell my name. Though maybe I'll start doing that.

Sincerely,
"Teryn"

P.W.
I do have to give you credit for a close attempt at spelling my name correctly. At least you didn't spell it T-i-f-f-a-n-y (No, really. Someone actually got Tiffany from Taryn.), T-y-r-o-n-e (even though this was my old nickname in basketball), or T-a-n-y-a, which leads me to believe people aren't really listening at all.

P.T.
Ok, fine. You caught me calling the kettle black, I'm not the best at remembering names either ... but I do remember faces.

P.T.T.
What if you did a quick sketch of my face instead of my name? Or, if I blurt out random sound effects, will you write it like they do in the old Batman series with little lightning bolts and such? How 'bout I do a quick little jig? Can you put that on my cup? To save time, you can use stick figures. Let's say I wanted to do "The Shopping Cart" dance. You could draw a little interpretive ditty like this to represent said dance.

This should be a trend.

And speaking of should-be-trends, here's my PSA for today:

Purchase a bottle of Ethos® Water from Starbucks, and they will donate 5¢ to support humanitarian programs in coffee-growing communities. Ethos® Water spreads awareness about the world water crisis and helps children around the world get clean water.

Contrary to my initial gripe this morning, tip of the imaginary top hat to Starbucks - I'll pay a little extra for a good cause.

*Shopping Cart Dance interpretive sketch is a Marcy Magoo original. Thanks and gig'em!

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Honks: Decoded

I had an epiphany the other day during my commute to work amongst my fellow oh-so-pleasant Houston motorists. Every honk has a meaning. Some are very direct and to the point with universal meanings, others have a loose translation that is highly dependent on the situation. Have you ever been stuck behind someone who could move up juuuust a smidge so you can proceed with your right-on-red or your U-turn? I have, and that's why I decided to be polite to the person behind me, who actually had their blinker on, so they could inch by me into the turn lane. But as I inched forward, their blinker quickly disappeared from my rear-view mirror and reappeared into my side-view mirror as half of their car hugged my bumper, and the other half occupied the turn lane. But short of love tapping the person in front of me, I couldn't move up any further. Did you know this crazy person had the nerve to honk at me?! "Hey! Move up!" ... So of course I honked back ... "Dude! What do you think I've been doing for the past ten seconds? Hellooooo, can't you see I'm practically touching the car in front of me? Pipe down back there! Rude." (Yep, my one honk said all that.) This of course made me think of all the different things a honk can say. I took the liberty of interpreting some common honks for you, and for my visual learners I've included a few pictures and a short clip. Let's begin.

Meep*

Mornin’!

Meep Meep

Hey, neighbor! Look, I’m waving at you. 

Like Barbie and Teresa.

Meep*

Go ahead. 

Meep*

Still here. 

Meep Meep

That's what Beaker said.

Meepmeep

Watch out for that trashcan behind you! 

(Quick and friendly as if you’re saying “I’ve got your back.”) 

MEEP MEEP!

You’re about to back into me! 

Peep

Excuse me. Can I get by? 

(This one you try and lightly tap so it sounds a little more polite.) 

Beep

Whoa there! 

BEEP

GO! 

BEEEEEP!

COME ON! IT'S GREEN!

Beep Beep

Pay attention, Buddy! 

Beep! Beep!

Loved that show!

HONNNK

&@#% you!

HONNNK!

&@#% you, too!

HONK! ... HOOONNK! ... HHHOOOONNNNNNNNNK!

What the hell are you doing? ... WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?! ... WHATAREYOUDOING?! 

(This honk has so much frustration, you physically brace yourself in your seat as you lay on the horn. This honk is also accompanied by the white-knuckled death grip on the steering wheel, and maybe a little shaking depending on the severity of the situation.)

As seen in the opening scene of Office Space

BEEP! BEEPBEEPBEEEPBE-BEEEEEEPBEEPBEEP! HONNNNNNKHONK!HONK!HONK!HONK!

HONNNNNNNNNNK! 

WE WON! LET’S PARTY! 

(Yes, that’s “We are the Champions” you hear playing in the background.)

BEE-BEE-BEE-BEEP, BEE- BEEP, BEE-BEEP

Hullabaloo, Caneck, Caneck! 

WHOOP !

(Then there’s the Hullabaloo Fail that ends up sounding more like the aforementioned general celebratory honk. And yes, there’s a difference.)

HHHHHHHHOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!

HELLOOOOOOO. You’re starting to veer into my LAAaaaaanne! No really, I just clenched my cheeks like Nacho Libre, my passenger just grabbed the “oh S*#@” bar and OHMYGOSHWE’REGONNADIIIIIIE!

And just in case you needed one more visual to solidify that last translation, I'll leave you with this.

Nacho Libre - Recreation Clothes
Tags: Nacho Libre - Recreation Clothes

P.T.

This clip prompts the Nacho Libre effect. It gets me every time.

Sources:

* Thanks for your input, dear sweet Rabecki with an 'i'! 

Barbie and Teresa

Beaker

Roadrunner

Samir from Office Space

THE BEST SCHOOL ON EARTH

Nacho Libre

Granny Driver

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That's My Story and I'm Sticking to It

Ok, friends and strangers ... I'm sure you're probably thinking "Make up your mind, woman!" for changing the look of my blog for the third time, but I was trying to figure out what exactly this La-La Land should look like so I can establish a "brand", if you will. It's a lot of pressure! Not really, there are just too many options. Yeah, remember our talk about options and indecisive girls? But I'm pretty confident I like this makeover. I may make a nip here or a tuck there, but I won't go Joan Rivers on you guys. I liked the crazy colors of the last look, but it was getting a little harsh on the eyes. (Read: if I, at 23 with relatively healthy eyes, am having issues reading the thoughts of Marcy Magoo, I don't want to alienate any of my wiser readers.) Enter the current background. It made me think of a Rorschach (pronounced 'Rorshak') ink blot test which I think I thunk is similar to my kind of thinking ... don't ya think? It's random in appearance and when looked at with a different eye, you can find many things in one. Didn't know Marcy was philosophical, huh? It just got real, yo. And the fact that those Rorschach tests are used in psychology to detect underlying thought disorders, especially in cases where patients are reluctant to describe their thinking processes openly? That's just coincidence. Besides, I'll openly tell you my thought patterns... but don't say I never warned you.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

P.W.
I just want to thank everyone for reading! And can we just talk about how I think my favorite part of this blog (aside from the fact that I can get all of these crazy thoughts out) is how I can see what countries have ended up here (by either stumbling across my page and/or on purpose after stumbling)? Aside from my American readers, I've got 10 views from Singapore! I'm really not trying to brag, I just think that is so cool! Who knows if it's one person or 10 people (or any combination in between), but shout out to my Singaporeans!

P.T.
Thoughts, comments and feedback are welcome. Also, if you have a thought you'd like Magoogalized™, send it in!

Thanks and Gig' Em
Find more info on Rorschach tests on Wikipedia

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Thanks and Gig'em!

I'll leave you with this:

Texas A&M Women's Basketball 2011 NCAA Champs

Photo courtesy of AP

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Confessions of a Texan

Source: http://www.huckleberryprairie.com/blog/chappell-hill-tx-scarecrow-festival/ 

I have a confession to make - 

I've spent the last almost 23 years of my life thinking it was illegal to pick bluebonnets. Every year, I anticipate that flip of the switch where the shoulders of our highways and grassy green hill country turn into a deep blue ocean of waves. Never once did I worry that someone would dare to pluck a bluebonnet from Texas soil....until yesterday.

We had a few visitors from our other offices this week. One Cooky Bird from another office in the great state of Texas decided to pull over on her way down to H-town to do the dirty. No, not that dirty (get your minds out of the gutter)...but she picked bluebonnets! I repeat, she picked BLUEBONNETS! As I passed the visitor office she was using for her stay, out of the corner of my eye I noticed them on the edge of her desk and gasped (quite loudly, I'm sure). I walked back up to my desk appalled that a Texan would do such a thing. Risk getting a fine just to bring a few bluebonnets that you picked up on the side of the road to the office with a view? Wow. So I immediately messaged a co-worker to A) tell her about how odd I thought it was that she randomly picked fresh flowers to bring to the office and stick in a vase, and B) that I was pretty sure it's illegal in the state of Texas to pick bluebonnets.

This is when I learned that B is false. FALSE?!!! How could it be? Well, my friends, there is actually no law that proves B to be true. Wait, what? Is this like the laws we learned as kids? Don't run with scissors in your hands; you'll cut yourself. Don't pick up tails-up pennies from the ground; they're unlucky. Don't go outside barefoot; you'll catch a cold. Don't sit too close to the TV; you'll go blind. Don't make that face, it'll get stuck. Don't, don't, don't.

Ok, so it may not be illegal, but I'm 99.9 percent sure it's bad joo-joo. And I'm 2010 percent* sure that it's especially bad joo-joo when you not only pick bluebonnets, but haphazardly shove them into a drinking glass after a 4 hour drive, and then before you leave, "share" them in the lunch room for every one else's viewing pleasure. See Exhibit A.

Exhibit A


Don't mess with Texas.

Thanks and Gig'em!

I'm Marcy Magoo, and I approve this message.

*whoop!

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