You have to understand that I use the term "Lady's Room" in sort of a wishful thinking kind of way. A real lady probably wouldn't be caught dead in there. It has the feel of a utility closet retrofitted as a bathroom. It's high and narrow with a concrete floor that has a drain dead center of the room. The room is scant wider than the door that admits you, though it is deep enough that there's plenty of legroom. It's shabby but clean. I'm sure Martha Stewart could think of something to brighten it up and make it look a bit more feminine. As it is now, only us under-class Eliza Doolittles go in there to doo a little.
There's been an ongoing problem I've been running into in this particular bathroom since I returned to work last September. Someone has been failing to fully flush. And that someone is not me. By process of elimination (pardon the pun)....
I can't even leave an anonymous note, seeing as how I'm the only other person in there. But believe me, it's pretty disgusting. Definitely more than I needed to know is contained in that bowl.