Every morning, I walk into my office, update the voicemail, glance over the emails, get a cup of coffee, read the news, and go to the restroom. Pretty much like clockwork. For some reason, the cleaning lady hasn’t figured out that every morning about 9:30 when she knocks on the door and announces “anyone?” that I’m going to say, “hold on!” or “yeah!” and that she’s going to have to scurry away and wait a few minutes in the hall. So today when she burst into the restroom and announced her presence, I yelled, “TURD BURGLAR–BE GONE!” just to see what happened. Quick footsteps and a harried “Sorry!” And she didn’t wait in the hallway like she usually does…I think I drove her into temporary hiding.
Look here for other bloggers who just want to be left alone in the john.
you’d think she’d get the hint. I always think “they’ll” get the hint. Nope.
I can hear you saying that. For some reason this story conjured images of your Greg Luganis impression in Gatlinburg. Perhaps its because both events took place in bathrooms.
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