Bathroom Humor

So, about the Freaklet.

Apparently, management has finally figured out that YES! They can stop her from dumpster diving. HURRAH!

I've learned that she is not as stupid as she acts. She is, however, weird as fuck. But not stupid.

I figured as much the evening I was at the return desk and I asked that the front end trash be gathered BEFORE I took my last cart back to receiving. She had to get me the trash, which meant that she wouldn't be able to slapfoot her way into oblivion while the rest of us clean the bathroom. Little wench tore one of the bags! Spilled all over the floor and I had to clean it up. (for the record, I have done 11 years of hauling trash back and have NEVER had a bag tear on its own)

Last Monday, I worked 'til close...and so did the Freaklet. They send me back to clean the bathrooms....and send me the Freaklet as help. I had told them earlier that night that the Freaklet needs to scrub her some toilets.

And that's what she did! bwhahahahahahahaha!

She was in the supply closet wasting time with the mop buckets...and I made her put on gloves, get the bleach water and toilet brush...and she scrubbed toilets! I told her to start at the "farthest stall" and she slapfoots herself past me and says in a cartoonish voice, "do you mean that last one all the way down there?"

Then she stood there, in the stall, sloshing the water in the bucket. She's slapfooting her way past me when I asked her, "Are you done with all the toilets already?"

She says, "Oh" psychotic giggle "is that what you meant?"

YES! You fucknugget!

She says, still using her false cartoon voice, "well, oh, whose job is it to do this?"

EVERYBODY'S!

"Oh, so it's YOUR job, then?"

NO, FUCKNUGGET! I tell her, "No, it's not MY job. It's EVERYBODY'S job. And tonight it's YOUR TURN!"

I spend the rest of the time cleaning the sinks and mirrors. I then drag her unwilling ass to the breakroom, where she is desperate to take the garbage and run. I don't let her. She takes off her gloves...and I inform her that she'll just get another pair for round #2: the men's room.

She then wants to know whose job it is, normally, to clean the men's room. I inform her AGAIN that it's HER job tonight. She's still itching to get the garbage and slapfoot her way into oblivion.

We finish the men's room (yes, she did the toilets correctly this time; she CAN be taught! bwhahahahahaha) and I tell her to mop the women's room. I'm taking away her fun--I'm taking the garbage!

She spends a few minutes fucking around with the garbage can trying to get the door propped open, and I fix that problem for her. She then starts mopping each individual tile...I tell her to go to the back of the bathroom and mop her way to the door, because she is NOT going to mop and walk all thru it so it looks like it wasn't mopped. She comments, "Well, it's rather pointless, really. We'll just have to mop it again tomorrow."

DAMMIT! I missed the opportunity to tell her, "well, with that reasoning, it'd be pointless to shower or brush our teeth, but most of us do those things every day anyway."

She has spent this week complaining to all and sundry how bossy I am...and today, she changed tack, and decided to comment about how "That Mumple and I just don't jibe. I can get along with anybody, really, but she and I, we just don't, I don't know....we don't jibe." Well, yeah, she's right: we don't jibe, because I don't see putting up with someone playing stupid to get out of work as reason enough for me to do their job too.

bwhahahahahaha! I am actually looking forward to the next time the little Freaklet and I work 'til close. It'll be fun! (oh, and I plan to learn how to do her little freaklet giggle so I can sneak up behind people and scare 'em!)