Turd Burglars and Stall Neighbours

When I was in junior high, I remember reading a jokey email about games you can play in public bathrooms. Games that don't involve a slip of the foot into another person's stall for bathroom hanky panky. (Why anyone would initiate such activity after both parties rode the porcelain pony is an exasperated rant for another day.)

But back to my point.

One of the games was called "Turd Burglar." Here's how you play.


If you're sitting in a stall (regardless of going one or two), you yell "TURD BURGLAR!" at everyone who rattles your stall door checking for occupants. The purpose: freak out your fellow bathroom visitor.

Anyone who knows me well (and I mean really well, because I don't even go into the bathroom at the same time as other girls to chat and gossip while we evacuate waste) knows that there are three things I hate about public bathrooms:

• People who don't wash their hands
• Turd Burglars who rattle my stall door when they should know the door is closed for a reason
• And my recent pet peeve: Stall Neighbours

Since moving into my new office with 200-some other people (the majority of which are ladies), I find that I can't go a day without receiving a Stall Neighbour with every tinkle.

I understand having a Stall Neighbour is inevitable at peak times (noon, breaks, at the end of the day). But at quieter times, when I'm the only person in one of 11 stalls, why must the next person into the bathroom choose to find relief right next to me?

My bladder is more shy than I am, so is she getting a wicked pleasure from hearing my bladder dry up at her presence? Or is she one of those people who can't be alone for two minutes, out of fear that she might fall in or tragically need a square to spare?

No, I think the real reason is simple: she's just unaware that her Stall Neighbour is neurotic and fearful that she's there to burgle some turds.