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Guess Which Doors Song Fits This Entry Best
Friday, May 11, 2007


There are several different companies in the building I work in, with two companies splitting the entirety of one floor. ("Entirety," though, doesn't seem that appropriate a word to use, considering that the whole structure is this cramped 6-floor deal and will be the last thing on Pasong Tamo to ever be considered grandiose. Oh, and the place has this temperamental elevator that can only fit three people and, through its random blinking numbers, lies about what floor its actually on. I'm not complaining, though. I happen to find run-down places cozy. I've been living in one for most of my life, after all. And the elevator has a mirror. But I digress.) The washrooms, strangely enough, are located in between floors, on floor 1.5, 2.5, and so on, if you will. Such special spaces, our washrooms. Since our company is on the 6th floor, the washroom I frequent is on floor 5.5, and the weird .5 corridor it's on gives me an ample view of one of the companies on the floor below us. It would be safe to say that this company has something to do with fire safety. Because there is a life-size statue of a Caucasian fireman by their front door, just a few feet away from the little girls' room. And it's not some hot fireman, either (sorry, Vittorio). It's this big, old moustached guy. Like Super Mario, only taller and not a plumber. So anyway, the whole point of this bad paragraph is that every single time I leave the washroom, I come face to face with a scary, plaster man. I've never gotten used to it. You'd be confused too if you came face to face with a scary, plaster man wielding an enormous hose every single time you finish peeing. You'd feel violated, even. But maybe if the guy just didn't look so "Suburban Dad from the Volunteer Fire Brigade," and looked more, I don't know, attuned to the fireman image of pornos past, it would be much, much better.


posted by marguerite @ 4:50 PM

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Marguerite.
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Pasig City, PH.

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