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For those of us who spend our days pinballing around the office, it’s not unusual to create funny little relationships to help pass the time. We have work spouses and coffee pals, lunch crews and kitchen buddies; all designed to distract us from the crushing reality that work is life and life is work, and (if you’re lucky) retirement arrives sometime before you turn 80.
But lately, I’ve been thrust into a more unorthodox, though not entirely unwelcome, workplace relationship: bathroom friends.
‘Fancy seeing you here’: My coworker and I are on the same bathroom schedule Credit: Marija Ercegovac
Before we begin, it’s worth noting that the workplace bathroom represents a curious place in the professional ecosystem. Out on the office floor, employees exist as real-life versions of their LinkedIn profile pictures, exchanging pleasantries and can’t-stop-and-chat smiles. But the bathroom is an inherently personal space for personal business, creating an uncomfortable blurring of lines.
Usually, we navigate this by keeping it brief; there’s an unspoken agreement that it’s best to pretend none of this is happening, and so a curt nod and a quick “Hey!” is all that’s expected.
Unfortunately, this system comes undone when you find yourself syncing up with someone.
For me and my workmate, let’s call him Dave (because that is his name); it all began a few months ago. Over several days, he and I found ourselves terrifyingly in sync, I would open the door, and there was Dave, zipping up.
The first two crossovers could be explained by coincidence; however, by the third time, the situation demanded an acknowledgement. He opted for “Haha, you again”, while I went with “We have to stop meeting like this.”
Sadly, we would not stop meeting like this; the pattern continued the entire week, a rotating door of funny one-liners to defuse the awkwardness. We cycled through “Fancy seeing you here,” “This is getting weird,” and my personal favourite, “Are you stalking me?”
Further complicating matters was Dave’s seniority at work. The office bathroom is an etiquette minefield at the best of times, but dealing with a power imbalance added a new layer of panic to my inner monologue.
If he’s at the urinal on the right, is it weird to position myself in the middle, or will he respect it? Do I wash my hands first if I’m already finished, or is it polite to wait? Should I offer him paper towels, or is that crossing a line?
I considered changing bathrooms and starting fresh on a whole new level of the building but realised this was outrageous, although not more outrageous than offering someone a paper towel.
This stock image of ‘stressed out office workers’ accurately reflects how this whole scenario made me feel.
Accepting this was my fate; I decided to reframe the bathroom as a hierarchy-free zone. Out there in the open plains of the open plan, he was Dave, My Boss, head of operations, slayer of budgets, but in here, he was just Dave, The Nice Guy From The Bathroom.
The longer it went on, the more it began to feel like our dirty little secret, like an office affair but one that involves no romance yet still some genitals. Whenever I passed Dave in the hallways, we’d both smile as if to say, “See you soon.”
Naturally, this phenomenon extended to everything else we did. When I felt thirsty, Dave was already refilling his water bottle. At lunchtime, I’d go downstairs to pay too much for sushi, only to find myself lining up behind Dave. Two relative strangers working, eating, drinking and visiting the bathroom in perfect harmony.
Like any new relationship, the honeymoon period came to an end, and we settled into a comfortable rhythm. If we felt like talking, we talked; otherwise, it was just enough to know the other person was there.
Until one day, he wasn’t. At first, I assumed Dave must’ve been on leave (why didn’t he tell me?), but then two weeks passed, and I grew concerned – surely he couldn’t be unwell, or I would’ve sensed it.
By the time I started casually working Dave into conversation with colleagues – “Can’t believe it’s EOFY already; hey, is Dave OK?” – I knew I’d lost my mind and had to let it go.
Whatever cosmic force responsible for bringing us together had been flushed away, and it was probably for the best.
Eventually, I did start seeing Dave around the office again (it turns out he actually had been both away and unwell, Bali Belly), but we haven’t crossed paths since. Rumour has it he was spotted using the bathrooms downstairs. It was fun while it lasted, my bathroom bestie.
Find more of the author’s work here. Email him at [email protected] or follow him on Instagram at @thomasalexandermitchell and on Twitter @_thmitchell.
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