Years ago I worked with a girl that had even less of a filter than me. For the purposes of this story let’s call her ‘Filterless Fiona’. She had a kind heart, was an extreme worrier and literally said anything that came into her head whether it was appropriate or not, which was a bit hairy at times but was essentially brilliant for entertainment. She would never intentionally insult or embarrass anyone but occasionally this did happen.
When you work full time with the same set of girls over a number of years you tend to develop a closeness where oversharing and not keeping any secrets is the norm. It becomes normal to discuss everything from the latest ‘shewee’ purchase to anal warts with a lot of women’s talk inbetween. So on the occasions when we would need to do the unthinkable and do a poo at work it wasn’t a big deal because toilet habits had always been a hot topic of conversation. If someone ever said ‘’I’m going to the loo upstairs’’ it was code for ‘’I’m going for a poo, don’t come up, unless I’m not back in 20 minutes, then call an ambulance’’
There had been a new girl due to join our team and our manager had seen fit to give Fiona the job of showing the new starter around the premises, an important job offering an insight into where to find the tea room, the cloakroom and the staff toilets amongst other things.
Within minutes Fiona could be heard explaining in great detail how the downstairs toilet on the shop floor, which also doubled as a customer toilet was strictly for wees only but if she needed a poo at any time during her shift it was perfectly acceptable to go upstairs to have one.
The poor girl looked terrified. I admit that although these are the rules, it’s not really part of the standard routine information we give out when someone new is welcomed into the bosom of our little work family. It’s not something that you want rammed down your throat from a total stranger on the first day of your new job. However, by not beating about the bush Fiona had performed 2 services.
- Getting the new girl used to the environment she would be working in were any sharing including but not limited to personal hygiene, sex lives, marital arguments, whats for tea and toilet habits is openly discussed and accepted without judgement regardless of whether we even know your name.
- Making damn sure the downstairs toilet is not a victim of misuse by allowing someone to use it for a crap.
Fiona left for pastures new shortly afterwards. Since then our little work family has seen numerous new starters come and go. Some of which would have benefited greatly from a frank unfiltered tour from Fiona because I’m not being funny but when is it ever okay to use a single customer toilet a few meters away from a public shop floor to do a massive shit when there are private toilets for this specific purpose a stone’s throw away up a few stairs?