Failure to anticipate one's baser customers

My company allotted our store a small budget to improve the appearance of our restrooms. That was a nice idea. My boss was really pleased to have the chance to make them more presentable, as they were really plain and boring; white toilet, sink, and ceiling... gray floor tiles, off-white walls, and beige waste bin. We have some advertising on one wall of each room, and the dispensers for toilet paper, hand towels, and hand soap, but other than that, there hasn't ever been anything else.

To make the rooms look prettier, she decided to get a nice picture for each, and for each, a plastic Ficus tree in a wicker "planter" pot.
I have to say, the Ficus in the ladies' room is lovely. It does definitely brighten up the place, and makes it feel more homey and comfortable.

It looks something like this:

  

I wasn't so sure about the one in the men's. I voiced my doubts, and noted a behavioral probability.

Before going on, I should probably explain a bit about our men's room.

One of the fun things about working in a convenience store is that people will do things in your restroom that they would never engage in at home. In this case there is a serious issue regarding the correct way to use the toilet.

By that, I mean putting one's bodily wastes inside the toilet rather than simply near it.

This is not just a problem of men "missing" the hole. It's more like interior decorating.

The room isn't big... it's about four feet square with a ten foot ceiling. The toilet is only about one step from the door. There's no lid or anything, so there's no reason why, once he makes it into the room, a guy shouldn't make it to the toilet.

There's no urinal, either, though there is a re-painted area on the wall where there had been a urinal, which was removed before I started work at that location. It is my understanding (from the word of a former co-worker) that the urinal was removed because guys didn't seem to understand that it was just for urine. I'm not sure what was the problem understanding that. It isn't called a crap'n-all. It's called a urinal. ...but I digress.

The use of the toilet isn't much more sensible than the use of the urinal. At least four days a week, we have to unclog it because some guy with an atrocious diet comes in and drops a giant, wax imitation of a turd. I swear, this guy must consume even more animal fat than I do, and that's saying a lot. He must be on something like a strict diet of hard salami and cheese. I'm serious... the thing looks like it was molded from a brown candle. There is no way this guy ever eats anything but animal fat!

He then proceeds to attempt to flush it despite its huge size and all previous failed attempts, and much to his surprise, it clogs the toilet again. When flushing does not get rid of it the first time, he continues flushing until the bowl fills with water. 

Then, he leaves without telling anyone about the mess he just made, so that the next guy who needs the restroom is faced with it. Usually by that time, the water has gone down, and the guy finds a bowl full of debris surrounding the biggest, shiniest piece of crap he's ever seen (unless he drives an El Camino.)

This is not a plunger-friendly mess. Before I started working there, the manager who hired me (and who is now retired) was having to call a plumber on a regular basis because of this guy.

I figured out a better way to handle the problem. It's not fun, but it works.

Since the problem is made up mostly of waxy fat, all it needs is something to break it down and it will move along. I discovered that pouring really hot water onto the wax turd will cause it to break up into smaller, kind of melty wax turds which can be flushed. Now, I am the store plumber. Whenever we have a restroom clog, I get first crack at it. I've probably saved our store a few thousand dollars in plumbing fees just this summer.

The Big Brown Bomber is not our only problem, however.

As I mentioned before, there is a spot in the men's restroom where there used to be a urinal.
"Used to be" is the operative phrase.

This distinction seems to be lost on some of our late night and early morning customers, who insist on using it anyway. There is a permanent stain on the wall.

Once, when I was working the night shift alone, a guy came in and "missed" so badly that I had to assume alcohol was involved.

At least, I hope alcohol was involved.

I'd hate to think that a sober person would spray the walls of a convenience store restroom to mark it as his territory. Yes, I mean spray... he started by the door and made it more than halfway around the room, hitting about five feet off the floor (just below eye level for me).
I found it after it had run all the way down, leaving pretty golden streaks on our off-white wall. I'd been wanting the time to wash down those walls, but I never said I needed an excuse. 

Mad as I was, though, I couldn't help laughing about it. The mental image I kept getting wouldn't let me stop. All I could think of was some ornery looking guy in a trench coat (why, I don't know... maybe because that's the stereotype for what flashers wear, and this was the same kind of ornery as that) whipping it out and spinning around yelling "Weeeeeeeeeeee!" as he let fly.

It's not strictly a men's room issue, mind you. There's a regular visitor to the ladies' room we like to call "Poocaso."

I'll let that digest for a moment so you can think about why I might call her that.


Usually, we find it on the wall next to the toilet. Most of the time, it's only a bit, and we're not sure if it's done manually, or if she splashed. Recently, though, there have been unmistakeably deliberate finger smears along the wall. There is no way this was a splash... I'm talking a foot long and three inch wide professional paint job. Thinking it was a complaint, I checked the dispenser, but there was plenty of toilet paper.
I think that gal is just disturbed.

Anyway... when my manager came in with those two little Ficus trees to put into the restrooms, I had to say something. I mean, in an area where guys regularly pee on the walls, the floor, anywhere but the toilet... where they can't even always poop in the toilet, why would you want to add a feature that, in nature, works as a substitute toilet?

Her theory was that if the restroom looked better, it might get treated better. I knew not to argue. Once she's decided how she wants the facts to be, my boss will not accept evidence or logic.

In went the Ficus.

It took a week before the first guy used it. She was insufferable the whole time. A number of days count was kept on our dry-erase message board.

As in, "3 days without a Gross Ficus Urinary Incident"

We do have a sense  of humor at our store.

We also have a sense of told ya so. I confess that I took some satisfaction on the eighth day in erasing her seven and replacing it with a big, fat zero. I didn't say anything. I just wrote the number, and took the tree outside.

I have now learned that the foam and other filler in the wicker basket planter in which the new urinal... I mean ficus... sits can withstand the temperature of boiling sanitizer-water, and that if I use enough of it, I can get rid of all traces of yellow stains. It's not so good for the grass growing up through the cracks in the pavement behind the dumpster, though.

I was nice. I didn't actually say, I told you so.
(But everyone else did!)