Whenever I step into the toilet at work, it strips something from me. I have a toilet at home. It’s usually quite clean, and never tragic. As I approach mine, I smell clean folded towels nearby, or a recent steamy shower.
Wherever I step into the toilet in public, the experience is usually a bit less desirable, but usually not too bad. There may be a bit of a smell, and maybe a questionable spot on the floor, but usually not too bad. The air conditioning keeps me comfortable.
I work in construction. On the off chance I get to step into my boss’s bathroom, It’s usually quite nice! The toilet and floor are as clean as my own. There’s usually cleaning supply easily accessible, and the AC feels just as comforting as my own.
When I step into my usual toilet at work, it tells me exactly what I am to my employer. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I’m not worth the money for a regular toilet. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I’m not worth the money for regular cleanings. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I’m not worth the money for adequate cleanings. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I’m not worth the cost of plumbing. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I don’t deserve double digit temperature toilets. When I step into the toilet at work, it tells me I’m not worth the cost to take care of that piling mountain. When I see my soft turd darkened and dried during that same shift at the top of that stack at over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, it tells me my employer owns my life.