Wednesday, March 03, 2004
Now, an open letter to our library patrons
Please do not flush sanitary napkins, paper towels, or syringes down the commode. If you must shoot up in the bathroom, please do not leave arterial spray on the walls. Neither the janitor, nor the shaken mom with toddlers who reported the problem, nor the parade of street people coming in to use the bathroom but now cannot because it's closed appreciates it.
Thank you for your consideration!
Well, the source of this evening's toilet overflow was not tampons as we first naively suspected, but syringes. The bathroom of the branch where I'm working at is now officially closed for the evening.
When I first moved to San Francisco the dotcom situation was heating up and for a while I illegally subletted an apartment in a beautiful Victorian in the Castro that was perfect in every way except for my nimrod roommate, Chuck. Chuck was a nice guy and we got along fine, but Chuck would do things like substitute paper towels for toilet paper after he ran out. For reasons I cannot fathom, he also made a habit of flushing his dental floss down the commode. The old pipes finally became overwhelmed and clogged and there was a massive flood in Chuck's bathroom. Toilet water rich with Chuck's fecal matter rained down all over the downstair's houseproud homosexual couple's antique Oriental rugs. When the absentee landlord appeared to deal with the mess he discovered that none of the original tenants were living at our place. There was a lot of messy damage that would require extensive repairs so I thought it was best to just leave before I was evicted.
The lesson is that toilets are not dumpsters and if they can't handle feminine hygiene products like the sign says, then they can't handle your works, either.
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