The time I assaulted a toilet paper dispenser

The story you are about to read is 100% true. The names have been changed, because it amuses me to use all capitals. Below is a lightly edited version of an actual email I sent.

This post was originally a part of the now defunct Somnaplegic blog. 

May 10 , 2016

 Greetings Custodial Services,

This issue concerns the toilet paper dispenser in the single stall ladies bathroom on second floor of BUILDING HALL. Please forgive my rant, but it’s been a long time coming. With the construction next door causing the shut down of the larger women’s bathroom in OTHER BUILDING HALL, all women on the 2nd floor of both BUILDING AND OTHER BUILDING HALL have been corralled into the single stall bathroom in BUILDING HALL. It is a very nice bathroom, with lots of space and amenities, but a line does frequently form in the hallway. At some point a sign went up directing us to use the men’s bathroom in OTHER BUILDING HALL but by that point we’d all gotten used to fighting over the capacious single stalled room. I can’t speak for the others, but I  personally find the urinals in the men’s room creepy. Also, have you ever noticed men’s bathrooms seem about 20 watts dimmer than the women’s bathrooms? My unscientific survey of bathrooms around UNIVERSITY CAMPUS after hours has confirmed this. . . but that’s another thoroughly pointless story. Still, I must ask, why is the tile always browner in the men’s room? What’s up with that? 

Anyway, on to the to the point of the story. The high volume of traffic in the the single stall bathroom is taking it’s toll on the facilities. About a month ago, the toilet paper dispenser started malfunctioning. It’s one of those giant affairs that holds two enormous rolls at a time. When you would go to tear off a strip of toilet paper, the whole apparatus would spring open like one of those demented Jack-in-the-Box toys, and dump the aforementioned huge rolls of toilet paper in your lap. . . which was startling and annoying. Granted, you were already on the toilet, so the danger of unfortunate side effects of being startled, sadly common in those of us who’ve had children, were mitigated. 

In response to the ninja spring attack campaign being waged by the toilet paper dispenser, the women of the building took to putting tape on the top of the dispenser to keep it shut. Tape the custodial staff would remove when they refilled the dispenser, resulting in another giant roll of toilet paper in the lap situation. We replaced the tape. . . lather rinse and repeat. Eventually, it seems the staff got the hint, and would retain the tape, unfortunately, after being removed during the opening, it would loose adhesion . . . and well, you see where this is going.

Last week, the dispenser fell open on me and this time I actually received a cut from the sharp teeth on the end. I confess *I may have overreacted* when I ripped the cover off of the dispenser and threw it in the trash. I do feel somewhat justified in my “Hulk-smash” rage, as it came from a desire to protect other people from being assaulted by the wretched thing. Vengeance was mine. I knew that now, the tyranny of the dispenser was ended. FOREVER. And I hoped this would signal to the staff that it was time for a new dispenser. For the record, the cut really hurt and it left a bruise on my mouse clicking finger. An administrator with an injured finger is only operating at 88% efficiency. How am I to effectively draft and send long meandering complaints about toilet paper dispensers with a cut, bruised finger? 

My victory was all too brief. This morning, I returned to the bathroom to find that the staff had fished the now VERY OBVIOUSLY broken cover out of the trash and replaced it on the dispenser with some packing tape to hold it in place. The piece that cut me was now hanging down right where it can cut someone else not aware of the diabolical nature of this contraction. I have removed it again, and placed it in another trash, can further away, with a post-it stating, “Do not put this horrible thing back up. It cuts people." Please inform the custodial staff that the blasted thing needs to be replaced and NOT to put the old clearly broken cover back on.

If it reappears, I will rightly assume it has been possessed like a Chucky doll and call for an exorcist.

That is all.

Thank you for your patience if you got through that whole thing,

She-Hulk of BUILDING HALL

*This post was originally a part of the now defunct Somnaplegic blog.