The wonderful mystery box

Anyways, I do apologise for the LG15 talk below - you may have been able to see through my plot to keep the links somewhere other than in my Mozilla tabs to keep things tidy. Also, I can't promise that you'll find this any more rivotting.

When it comes to ladies bathrooms, everyone has their favourite. At work, I'm a third from the end kinda gal - my old boss favours the one on the end even after I told her how the toilet furthest from the door is always germiest as it's the most used toilet (in all ladies toilets apparantly, though at our work it also seems to be the favoured one for stanking it up) but she has issues with using the cubicle closest to the door as it's the one favoured by our special staff (special as in it's the one where the murmering, singing and slurping comes from, where the toilet roll holder has been snapped off the wall, and where ladies have been found doing their business with the door not only unlocked but sitting wide open. This does not a lovely welcome make as it's the first cubicle you see by default in the mirror reflection and no amount of them singing 'so-rry' while doing there business is ever going to make it ok). My third from the end status also means that I don't mind (as much) going into the bathroom at the same time as her as I always know where she's going to be and I can relax in the fact there won't be any awkward there's-someone-too-close-and-I-can't-totally-relax type nonsense.

For a few months now (not an exageration, though I wish I'd marked the start date in my organiser) my cubicle has had (another!) special guest - the mystery pube. The mystery pube is curly like a signature and attached the wall, starting about ten centimetres from the gap. I often fall deep in though while gazing at mystery pube - How long have you been here? Who do you belong to? How did you get there? Did they put you there on purpose? Who works here that lets their pubes get so long? How many other people have noticed you? Who can I tell about you without coming off as seven kinds of freaky? Why hasn't the cleaner wiped you off? HOW MANY GERMS AM I IN THIS CONFINED SPACE WITH?

Today there was another new guest - a daddy longlegs (who's your daddy? he isn't!). At first I was startled and moved to make the switch to another cubicle, but decided I'd already shared it with person DNA, I guess a spider is no different. I was worried at first that someone would see him and squish him, then realised I was in the ladies room and they were more likely to squeal and switch then make an attack. Then I thought maybe I should move him outside, but figured the grief I get from security for bringing my futurama freezer bag full of lunch every day doesn't need to be amped up once they see me squealing outside holding an upside down cup over an envelope (I'm all for saving them, doesn't mean I like being the one doing it!). Then I thought maybe I should tell the cleaner so that he knows not to kill him - but seriously, what type of cleaner would move a spider that's had ample opportunity to remove a more offensive item from the same stall!

The race is on - who will outwit, outplay and outlast the other? So far it's a bit of tie (I've had more than half a dozen opportunities to keep track of how they're going due to the detox thing - I've already drunk more than 2.5 litres of water at work today!) as both are still there.

Hrm, it's starting to get kinda crowded...