The Art of Aiming

Not much happens at work. At least not that much I can tell you about. It just wouldn’t look good if I started writing about all the fun we’re having with our customers. Still, there are those little things. Like people who just have to talk to you while you’re with them in the elevator, even if you have never seen them before in your life.

We rent offices on the eight floor of a rather modern building in downtown Oslo. Every floor has toilets, which is nice since sometimes you’ll need to go to the bathroom during the day. That’s just the way we work as humans, and doing it in your office desk drawer just wouldn’t work in the long run.

I’m a guy, and there is some unwritten law saying that guys have to stand when they’re taking a leak or they’re freaks of nature. This is not a problem if there is a urinal or if you’re capable of actually aiming at - and hitting - the toilet. On our floor there is no urinal and a guy who is just incapable of hitting the toilet, but for some reason, he has to stand. The cleaning lady cleans the toilets in the morning, around noon it looks like someone have partied like it was 1999 on our floor without telling us.

I’m not sure who you are, but if you’re reading this, for the love of he-who-I-do-not-believe-in, sit down! Personally, I’ve been sitting for 25 years because my mother concluded that I was incapable of hitting the toilet and told me to sit down. This has not damaged me emotionally, I do not enjoy watching Sex and the City, nor do I wear pink or bright blue shirts. Actually, it’s rather relaxing. So, please, give it a try before the cleaning lady goes postal.


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