Previous Letter to Facilities of an Anonymous Fortune 500 Company...

To: Facilities
December, 2009
From: Jerry Ford

Subject: Men's Restroom, *** Street

To Whom It May Concern:

I happened to be using the restroom next to the break room at *** Street this morning and wanted to bring something to your attention.

Now, let it be stated that I am not one to saddle anyone with useless work - we used to call it "busy-work" - in fact, I am of the firm and unshakeable belief that if one does their work in a competent and reliable fashion that they should be rewarded with a shorter work week, a pay raise, a puppy at Christmas and a picnic at Easter as a reward for their competence and foresight, but I digress.

I was tending to my business at the urinal, planning out my next two hours at work, wondering what was on the lunch menu and contemplating the spread for the Superbowl. All the while, I was musing to myself over the competency and reliability of my own workmanship as well as what type of puppy the holiday was certain to bring, when there was a sudden "WHOOSH" sound, followed by a stinging in my eyes and throat and a horrible flashback to a mace mishap at a frat party in 1981.

I screamed and backed away from the urinal, my hands instinctively flying to my eyes, unwittingly ruining my shoes and providing extra cleanup duty for the 11am cleanup crew. I cursed, once I had regained my speech and most of my eyesight and saw, much to my surprise, a battery-powered, time-released air-freshener that had apparently been installed to freshon the air around the urinals in a toxic cloud of citrus-scented Zyklon B.

Installed at head-level above the urinals.

This seems to lack foresight.

Perhaps, instead of hanging the "freshener" above the urinals and aiming the deadly mist at users' eyeballs, we should think about re-installing them across from the stalls, where the really serious odors are generated. After all, while it is indeed funny to imagine people screaming and spraying the floors while pawing ineffectively at their eyes and creating, in essence, their own little mini-biohazard, it seems likely that the cycle of bad karma set into motion would far outweigh the actual joy over the implementation of the prank.

And all the while, the methane gas on the other side of the restroom remains unchecked and the most likely cause of the strange smells and random fire-alarms that plague our building.

Once again, I don't wish to create extra work for anyone and am all in favor of a good joke. In fact, I laugh at the Three Stooges every time Shemp gets his head stuck in a steam iron. I simply want to make certain that our safe work environment is maintained and policed at every level.

If there is anything I can do to assist in this matter, please do not hesitate to let me know.

Thanks!

Regards,
Jerry Ford

(Originally published June 17, 2010)