I've been accused of writing too often about bodily functions but such is life and here I go again.
As soon as I walked into the restroom a short while ago, I was hit in the face by a toxic funk that curled my nose hairs. I knew someone was in the last stall so I held my breath and managed to not gasp out loud. As I was washing my hands, Davie came out of stall number three and said, "I don't know who did that but they have a problem."
I said, "They need to go home and lay down."
We began spraying Lysol and Febreeze in massive quantities and left the restroom. As we were leaving we saw Rosanne going toward the restroom and we told her, "We didn't do that."
She wisely opted to go to a restrooom on another floor. If my co-worker with the IBS happens to be reading this, really, cut back on the fiber.