Have you ever visited either a very posh restaurant, or a foreign country, where you find an attendant in the bathroom?
Well, that’s how I felt today. Not all day, mind you … but long enough to appreciate what a thankless job it is.
Our office washrooms are being “renovated” — not improved, mind you, just changed. So all staff must head down a flight of stairs (or elevator) to use the facilities on the floor below.
This downstairs washroom has already been “renovated,” apparently, which is how I know there will be no improvements forthcoming to ours.
When I dropped by today, before I could get water to flow from the newfangled automatic taps, I had to do an awkward back-and-forth hand-and-arm wiggle that you might have seen in the outtakes of So You Think You Can Dance.
In the process, I sprayed water all over the counters and onto the floor. Then, when trying to use the soap dispenser, I jettisoned a spray of foam across the room … it looked like I’d opened a bottle of champagne… as if.
So I dutifully cleaned everything up, and left it much shinier than when I came in.
The experience was actually a far cry from that of a bathroom attendant … no tips.
P.S. It’s pretty cool what you can stumble across on the Internet. I was looking for a picture to use for today’s post and I came across the painting above. I’m not sure why I like it, but I do.
The artist is”The Urban Painter: William Wray” and this is how he describes his work:
“If Thomas Kincaid is the painter of light, I’m the painter of blight. Whether it’s old an Drive–in or trailer park, trains or sun bleached Gremlins, my subjects are bound to be demoed, towed to the junkyard or explode when the Meth chemicals combust. As a founding member of the L.A. River School of Urban Impressionism, I chronicle the fast disappearing pockets or industry, urban decay and run down rural areas. Places most consider not worth remembering, let alone turning them into works of art.”
You can check out his work here.