Don't you just when you have to go number two in your single stall, unisex bathroom at work, and just as you're sitting down, someone knocks on the damn door? Then you have to do the "just a minute" where everyone knows your voice because it's so damn deep, sultry, and let's face it, sexy? Now, what this interrupter should do is go use the identical bathroom one floor upstairs or just come back in a minute, but what she's going to do is a straight up stakeout and wait outside where I can see her feet pacing. Who do you think you are, Richard Dreyfuss? Now I feel like I have to go fast, knowing full well this not one of those fast ones. So she's going to know that I take terribly long dumps, and because she'll be going in just as I'm headed out, she's going to know that this one was rancid and God awful like a sick person poop. And thanks to her stakeout, she can now put a face to that awful smell.
What I would like to have is a Bruce Wayne Batcave Shitter. You just know that at Bruce's place of business he had a similar problem, and being a forward thinking type of guy, he would get the guys who built his batcave at home to make a secret shitter batcave at his work. All he does is rotate a statue of Rodin's "The Thinker" counter clockwise, and voila! A bookshelf opens up to a passageway where he sits down in a shuttle that whisks him off to the cleanest most spacious shit house in all of America. What's more, there is a television in there where he can catch an inning of the Cubs game too, or whatever baseball club plays in Gotham City. Then he probably takes a picture of his turd and texts it to The Joker just for a laugh.
Yeah, this is what I think about at work. I fantasize about the best work bathroom in the world.