Poopin’ on the Ritz

Is there anything more intimate than making a number two?

It’s one of the most vulnerable things you can do by yourself and, understandably, people have strong feelings about where they make the magic.

Some of you prefer a specific floor. I’ve talked to several colleagues who swear that the only place they’ll sit down is in the second floor men’s room. “It just has a great ambiance,” says one. And another adds, “A lot of ladies sit on 2, so I don’t think it gets a lot of use. It feels...special when I make a poop in there.”

(I have been told that E level used to be a great place to conduct business. But given my recent experience down there, I have a hard time believing that.)

Most people also have a favorite stall. Some of you are penthouse people—you like the extra space that the big boy stall offers. Others prefer, the Peter Brady stall. (One gentleman who always goes for this middle chamber says, “I just like the way it makes me feel. There’s too much space in the big one.”)

I’m sure there is somebody in the building that likes the stall closest to the urinals. But since I call this one “the stall of last resort,” I’m not sure who you are or why you chose it. But hey...different strokes.

But recently I heard about a colleague’s potty preference that really made me tip my hat.

“I like to walk up and go at the Ritz.”

Bravo, sir. Don’t shit where you work. Take your business elsewhere. And not just anywhere...the fanciest toilet (see above) in a two-block radius. Wooden doors on the stalls. Marble counter tops. REAL towels (see below) with which to wipe your hands. A premium potty, to be sure.

(Of course, this assumes he meant here and not here.)

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