No, its not metaphorical. And no, its not a joke.

My company is a nice place to work. Really. The people are damn smart, the environment is competitive yet casual, and I can wear my jeans and sneakers to office every darn day.

But then, God save you if you have to pee between three and four in the afternoon.

Let me explain. Of the few simple yet sublime pleasures of life, spraying the cannon after a few minutes with a full bladder is the most gratifying experiences of all. (Or hosing the lamp-post, or letting loose the lone water-pipe or the simple one-number. Whatever you wanna call it. Go pee.) And when an office floor is as cold as mine, it is but natural for a man (or a woman for that matter) to make a few quick stops to the restroom (finally! now I realize why toilets are called restrooms!) and relieve oneself of the unnecessary pressure. Only then can one think straight. You get what I mean.

So imagine this. You are walking towards the restroom (REST-room) after many minutes of foot-tapping and fidgeting with your pen. And just as you take the left turn towards the restroom, you freeze.

Because you see the mop-cart and a warning-sign that reads, ‘Caution. Floor is wet’. Because, there is only one person who cleans the toilets in our floor to a sparkle. And that person is a she.

Don’t get me wrong. This person is unbelievably industrious, excellent at her job, and very efficient. But the way men run helter-skelter when she’s about to enter the men’s-room is indicative that something is wrong somewhere. Karma, Gaya, Yin-yang, whatever.

She’s all of five foot (and maybe an inch). And pretty tiny at that. But six foot giants scoot off when she’s in our floor. I have heard of people catching a lift and going to upper floors just to take a pee. (I’d call that a sneak pee, but it would be too lame, even by poor joke standards). I mean, however proud a man is, one place in the whole wide universe he would not want a woman to walk into him is in front of the urinal.

Many questions arise in my mind (Does she knock; how does she make her entry; what do the guys already trapped inside do; worse still, what about the poor souls using the commode; what kinda sheepish grin do they have to put up when they step out; yada yada) but I let them pass. As I exit to the lift lobby.

Life is funny as hell, I tell ya.

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