Not Your Mothers Etiquette... 8 Rules to Follow When Dropping a Deuce at Work

Etiquette is a funny thing. We all know the basics: say “please” and “thank you;” don’t talk with your mouth full; turn your cell phone off in movie theaters and places of worship, etc.; say excuse me if you bump into someone on the sidewalk… you know – all that good stuff.

The “funny” part of etiquette comes in when a subject area in question is off limits for discussion according to etiquette. For example: Poop. It’s not polite to discuss feces in good company. However, there is a myriad of incredibly delicate rules surrounding poo. So, for the next couple of minutes, let’s put aside the rules of etiquette that say not to discuss poo in order to boldly explore the etiquette surrounding this controversial and provocative subject matter.

Let’s begin with the basics. There are many words for feces of which you are most likely aware:

Poop

Poo (one of my personal favorites)

Poopie

Kaka (the first one I learned as a child)

Crap

Shit

Do-Do

Doodie

Dookie

Bum brownie

Chocolate soldier

Brown banana

Brown dildo

Brown hotdog

Brown [insert anything with a poo-like-shape apparently]

Colon cobras (wow)

Sugar Honey Ice Tea (a favorite of a colleague of mine)

Etcetera… this is, by no means, a comprehensive list…

An even more amusing list is that to describe the verb of pooping. Here are a few to wet your palate. Gross.

Give sacrifice to the porcelain God

Ass sneeze

Drop a deuce

Lay bricks

Take the Browns to the Superbowl
Push some legislation through Congress (thanks for those two, FM)
Drop the kids in the pool

Grow a monkey tail

Fire rear thrusters

Grow a log

Lay pipe (although there’s an argument over whether this means to have sex… it is a featured favorite of several rap artists… including Lil Wayne)

Free the legless dog to sea

I could go on and on…

(Most of) these words and phrases are widely known. What is NOT known, I am finding, is the etiquette surrounding pooping in public, or more specifically, in the workplace. My interest in this subject began at my first job right out of college. A woman I worked with would not shut up in the bathroom. I had a VIP desk not far from the facilities, and I am pleased to report that on a good day, I could hear her dropping a deuce in the comfort of my cubicle…

The thing is, no one discusses what is and is not appropriate. So, I’ve developed a working list. Here are the basics:

1.      Thou shalt not grunt.

Moaning in victory is also prohibited (for example: “Oh, yeah!”). I dedicate this rule to the aforementioned woman from my first job.

**Please note: There are no exceptions to this rule**

2.      Remember to keep holy thy courtesy flush.

The courtesy flush is that effortless flush done right after firing a rear thruster. This wonderful little act reduces the amount of stench released into the air so that your unfortunate colleagues won’t be subject to its rank odor for hours on end.

3.      Thou shalt not look under the stall to identify thy neighbor.

This, incidentally, applies even when poop is not involved. Pulling a, “Is that you, so-and-so?” is not cool. Here’s what’s up: Their pants are down; there’s a good chance they don’t want to talk right now… about work or otherwise.

4.      Honor thy colleagues.

If you are in the middle of pooing and someone walks in, please, for the love of everything holy, stop and hold your fire. This means, no farting, no plopping, no nothing. We know you’re pooping – we are going to do our business as fast as possible so you can get back to what you’re doing (see rule number 5).

5.     Thou shalt not linger.

When you enter the restroom, scout out the other inhabitants. If you notice there is someone who is making absolutely no noise (politely following rule numero 4 we hope!), give them the ‘right-of-way.” If you came there to pee, do it swiftly. If you came to “give a sacrifice to the porcelain God,” tighten that external anal sphincter (your internal one is involuntary – just in case you were wondering), and go on your merry way.

6.     Thou shalt not talk on your cell phone.

I was once in the stall next to one of our more senior associates who was on a conference call discussing (ironically) the value of etiquette when soliciting high-level donors. And more recently, a colleague of mine came into the bathroom and went into the stall next to me and announced, “I’m peeing.” Well, I thought, you’ve come to the right place! (It wasn’t until she started in on her child for not cleaning the kitchen the night before that I figured out she was on her cell). My poor father was at an interstate rest stop when the person in the stall next to him asked, “Would you like to come over later?” After he replied “uhh… not a chance in hell,” the person on their cell phone (woops) became quite uncomfortable and explained to the person that they were going to have to call them back because some weirdo in the next stall was answering his questions!

7.     Thou shalt be creative in an emergency.

If it is an emergency situation and you are unable to follow rule number 4, execute the courtesy flush. The flush will camouflage any noises and if you have to do a number of these little beauties, blame it on the auto-flush toilets if you end up having to have awkward small-talk with someone who was caught in your PZ (Poo Zone).  

8.     Thou shalt not reveal yourself.

Speaking of awkward small-talk, rule number 8 is easy: if you’re dropping the kids off in the pool and someone comes in to pee and is busily trying to get out of your PZ per rule number 5, stay in the stall until they leave. The thing is, everyone knows you were pooping – you know it, they know it, the porcelain God definitely knows it. This rule will save you and your victim from having to have that awkward sink small talk. Small talk is hard enough; trying to engage in small talk while holding your breath? That’s just unnecessary. Stay put.

The thing is, no one wants to poop at work, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. However, if you follow these eight simple rules of pooping etiquette – granted, you will still have to endure the stress and discomfort that comes with the public poo – but at least your colleagues won’t be talking about you behind your back. Yes – it’s true. The thing is… work is boring. We all need something to keep us amused and poop-talk is in my opinion very effective.

So, there you have it folks. Now go forth and make me proud you polite little poopers!    

A little poem for you...

Monday, Monday

An unashamed

herm-Aphrodite.

Our first lady

and goddess

of gender neutral suits.

Oozing appropriate, well-timed responses from her prim brim

before the rest of the world dreams of Huey Lewis and the news.

“Isms”

"Isms"... what are “isms,” you ask? Well, they are quiet, little customs that each one of us performs instinctively. These minor habits can cross into OCD territory, but typically, they are harmless, habitual actions that, simply put, make you - you!

I see you shaking your head. “I don't have any 'isms,'” you proclaim.

Ahhhhh, but you do!

You see, more often than not, "isms" are unknown to their hosts. Quirky and minor by nature, they frequently go unnoticed and therefore, are rarely celebrated properly for their unique and charming nature. I am a firm believer that “isms” should be identified and applauded as much as possible... so... here are some “isms” for you to enjoy on this lazy Sunday...

A loved one of mine (who will remain unnamed for obvious reasons) bites their toe-nails while watching TV. This is the best illustration of how “isms” sometimes don’t make any sense… you see, this individual, who gnaws shamelessly on their toes, is a serious germ-a-phobe. They decline food prepared in other people’s kitchens (unless they’ve seen the aforementioned kitchen and have given it their seal-of-approval). They sanitize thoroughly after filling up their car with gas, and take (literally) three showers a day. Then again, if I were sticking my feet in my mouth, I would shower more frequently too. Now, I should mention that they are making a concerted effort to eliminate this “ism.” Best of luck to you, Ray Ray!

Olga, my oldest and dearest friend, sweetly and sporadically yawns while engaged in friendly conversation, unabashedly guards her bed against “street clothes” (anything that has ventured outside), and skillfully (yet unconsciously) ties sections of her hair into knots to pass the time.

My step-father, Bryan, must lie on the floor following a large meal... and remains there even if we put up a Christmas tree where he's relaxing...

My mother takes the biggest bites, yet somehow manages to still be eating after everyone else is done with their meal. I swear you could give that woman a piece of toast to nosh on as you sit down to Thanksgiving dinner, and she would still be working on it HOURS after you’re done with your turkey and stuffing.

My friend, Niki, has one of the cutest “isms” EV-er! In addition to her great love of any and all cheese products, the first thing she does when she wakes up in the morning is scratch all over her belly and back. I should make clear that she does not have any sort of rash or skin irritation… just a cute, little Niki-ism…

Laura, her bff, and dear friend of mine, loves to take pictures with pursed lips… and when she’s excited, her mouth opens up really, really wide. She gets away with all of this because she’s really H.O.T.

Two words for Kindl... dance face.

The lovely Marguerite will only ever finish half of any meal she orders, and then asks for aluminum foil to wrap it up and bring it home (my favorite part of this “ism” are the faces servers give her upon her request). She will also yell at complete strangers for littering, even though she’s the sweetest, most non-confrontational person I know. Cute little tree-hugger ;-)

Krissy, my sister-from-another-mister, swishes around her soda after taking a drink. (dialogue bubble: "can I get another diet coke over here!")

My step-mother, Amy, won’t drive into town unless there are at least 4 errands on her list of things-to-do…

My father will eat the same meal for months, even years if given the chance. Some of these long-running dishes include: tortillas with almond butter and bananas, pasta with cat fish, and salmon with sweet potatoes (to name just a few)…

My dearest PAT ie: Edwardo Patricio Olvera, will never, ever look directly at a camera while his picture is being taken. I have countless, adored photos of his handsome profile.

And last but definitely not least, D-Mack (what-WHAT!!!) will open his big, beautiful eyes even wider for a split-second right before he begins to explain something he would like everyone to take seriously.

I hope you appreciated learning about just a few “isms” belonging to some of my friends and family. Now you will begin to observe and admire these small actions carried out by your nearest and dearest. 

Enjoy!

A Little Karmic Diddy

Have you ever invented or made-up something you were so proud of… only to find out that your creation already existed?

When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with the development and life-cycle of jokes. I vowed to make up a joke, tell everyone I knew (along with a few lucky people I didn’t), and my goal was to someday hear my own joke told back to me. Unfortunately, I was about four years old and the “funniest” joke I made up went something like this:

Why did the chicken cross the road?

(Person shrugs their shoulders because, let’s face it, there are a HUNDRED of these.)

To call the firemen for nothing!

(After an awkwardly long silence, their blank stare morphs into an over-enthusiastic laugh once they realize that my joke is done. I am too young to recognize social cues like the above mentioned pause and fake laugh, and I end up strutting away feeling quite sure that any day now, my goal will be realized.)

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This, I’m not ashamed to say, has somewhat carried over into my adult life. In college, my roommate, Krissy (what, WHAT!!) and I were sitting around talking about how much we loved each other when she called me her brother-from-another-mother. I then said… “OMG!” (Not really though, because acronyms weren’t as cool as they are today) “You’re my sister-from-another-mister!!”

I went on to enthusiastically use this phrase whenever possible... hoping, obviously, to have it repeated back to me one fine day.

Fast forward five years – Ray, my semi-new boyfriend and I are watching TV and someone says the phrase, sister-from-another-mister. I start freaking out because at last (!!) my childhood dream has been realized! Ray is looking at me with this brilliant mixture of confusion and mocking disbelief. He then tells me definitively that I did not make that saying up and goes on to provide proof. I won’t even attempt to relay the crushing devastation that followed. Meany.

Fast forward three more years. I have not let Ray ruining my childhood dream destroy our relationship and he and I are living together in beautiful sin. On a random Wednesday during a particularly long week (you know, the one where it’s Tuesday and you’re all, “it’s Friday, right?”), I say to Ray, “Yay! It’s hump day!” His eyes light up – a big smile spreads across his unknowing face. “I made that up!” he says…

And Karmic Justice Is Served

Deep thoughts, by: Meadow

As far as I can see there are two kinds of people in this world: those who walk around like little receptacles, and those who do not. The latter, wizards of their own Oz, are able to decide when an experience is worthy. The former, sensitive and vulnerable, do not discriminate and let it all in: every stare (smirking or smiling), every comment (critical or complementary), and every touch (threatening or tender). 

Which one are you?

Things you can't do when you're married...

So – since I recently tied the proverbial knot – I’ve been thinking about all of the things I’m no longer “allowed” to do…

For example – I’ve always wanted to join the Peace Corps, and have been almost obsessing over it since Sargent Shriver, Jr. (first name, not ranking) passed away earlier this week. (For those of you who don’t know, he was the driving force behind the creation of the Peace Corps.)

Some of you may be saying, “That’s crap – she can totally still join… her and her husband can do it together.” What a delightful notion, right?! Well, before you start feeling all resolved and before I start packing, allow me to “introduce” you to my wonderful and (nearly) flawless husband, Raymond. Unfortunately, Ray could not be more dispassionate about spending over two years without daily access to things like running water, the internet, or ESPN.

A brief excerpt from our conversation last night:

Meadow: Why won’t you ever consider joining the Peace Corps?! (Asked less like an adult engaging in conversation – and more, I’m embarrassed to say, like a child who knows she’s not going to get her way) 

Ray: I have no desire to spend that amount of time in a remote, jungle village in the middle of Honduras or the Congo or someplace like that… I mean… (completely serious) I don’t want to be eaten.  

(Aaaaaaand… we’re done)

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So, for all of you veterans out there...  how are we to resolve such a post-marital pickle?

 

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Well hello, Mr. Firsts

Ahh… let us ponder the pure evil of firsts. How is one ever able to realize their potential if one does not allow themselves to dive head first, recklessly into their (at the time) shallow pool of experience? What could I be permitted to enjoy if I were to wildly ignore the importance of firsts? From now on, I mean…

For as long as I can remember, I have expected perfection without practice. When something has not come naturally to me, I passed it off as, “oh, I’m just not meant to be a [painter, beat-boxer, photographer...etc…]" Some of you may see that as knowing my own limits – but I imagine most of you will see it as I have come to: a cop out. You could also see it as lazy, but I’m going to ask those of you who do to keep your opinion to yourself for the time being. I will let you know when you are free to share…

Well, no longer ladies and gentlemen. I am completely uninhibited - a real rebel - and I no longer expect perfection without some unedited failure. (Actually, if we’re being honest with each other – I’m about 80% pure inhibition and 20% terrified). But, what is important is that I have wanted to start this blog for a couple of years now and do you know what’s been keeping me from realizing my goal? This first post – I am terrified of this first post. What if it’s stupid, meaningless, and oh, dare I say, **gasp** not funny?!

So, because I am 70% of a rash and uninhibited, anti-perfectionist, I write for you my very first post and laugh in the face-o-firsts as I hit “publish” and shower my one follower (my husband who, incidentally, is bound by law to support me in all I do) with words of contemplation. Perhaps-maybe-possibly, some others will stumble upon my little blog... and if you are one of those stumblers, reader, and you find that you are like me: 60% pure inhibition and only 40% terrified... go ahead - grab Mr. Firsts by the balls! Wasn't it John Wayne who so eloquently said, "if you have them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow." Well, I say, 'One may not know what they're going to say or do next, but if you have them by the balls, at least you know they're listening...'