For the last three hours I’ve been sitting at my desk drinking green tea because it’s supposed to help me live longer and trying to write a proposal I know no one will ever read. I decide to reward myself with a long walk to the bathroom to take what I hope will be the longest piss of my life followed by a liberal washing of my hands. I assume I can waste at least 10 minutes on these two activities.
I open the door to the first floor bathroom just in time to hear what sounds like somebody dumping a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew onto wet concrete followed by a long exhale. I look under the door of the only occupied shitter and don’t recognize the shoes so I have no idea who’s responsible for my burning lungs as I walk to a urinal and unzip my pants, disappointed that my only minutes of respite from a job I hate have been ruined by the unknown guy taking a crap.
Just as I’m starting to get jealous of whoever it is because I assume they’ll get to spend more of their work day in the bathroom than I will, I hear a flush, then the door opens and my boss, Lonnie, steps out still zipping his pants back up. He breaks one of the cardinal rules of bathroom etiquette and looks me directly in the eye through our reflections in the mirror. My cock is in my hand and I’m pissing as I feel obligated to recognize our shared glance in some way. I nod. He returns it.
My cock is still in my hand when he steamrolls the rest of the cardinal rules of bathroom etiquette and starts a full on conversation with me. He turns the water on at the faucet closest to me and says, “Glad I caught you in here. Save me a trip to your office this afternoon,” and puts his hands under the running water. No soap.
I’m trying to maintain some shred of dignity in the situation so I don’t say anything. I just nod again.
He says, “You know our departmental intern, Jim or Stan or whatever?”
I nod.
He says, “He just told me he’s leaving at the end of the week. We still have a mountain of old reports and proposals that need to be filed and I’d rather not pay someone to come in and do it if you catch my drift. You mind rounding up another intern to replace him?”
I try to just shrug my shoulders as if to imply through body language that I’m responding with an attitude of compliance. Instead I shrug my shoulders and actually say, “No problem,” while my dick is still in my hand.
Lonnie says, “Great, just call USC or UCLA or where ever we got this last one from. Or even CSUN or something. I guess it’s closer. That’s probably the way to go. Thanks.”
Then he does a shitty job of drying his hands with one paper towel and pats me on the shoulder. My cock is still in my hand and he still hasn’t used any soap. I finish pissing, zip my pants back up, wash my hands with soap for much longer than necessary, dry them and then go back to my desk. I stare at the proposal for a few seconds and then decide to take the long way around the first floor to the kitchen to slowly refill my green tea.