I don’t know who is responsible for buying the supplies for our restrooms, but I’d like to do said person(s) serious bodily harm. I can deal with the cheap tissue - it does the job. I can tolerate the cheesy paper towels, even to I need to use twice as many to dry my hands. I can even overlook the nasty automatic “air freshener” dispenser that fills the tiled room with the gaggable odors of baby powder or peach.
But when it comes to soap, I absolutely, positively, without reservation draw the line at that gawd-awful yellow, antiseptic, stinky nastiness that’s in the soap dispenser now. Apparently, no one bothered to take note that the last time that smelly abomination was used as a refill, it went immediately down the drain (I didn’t dump it, but I’d buy a drink for whoever did) and a couple of kind, generous souls brought in bottles of decent hand soap for all of us to use. Next time thru, the old lotion-style soap was back, and there was much rejoicing. Today, there’s a full bottle of that vile, odiferous slime from hell mucking up the dispenser.
Tomorrow, I’ll be bringing in a bottle of the good stuff.
Tonight, I shall build a voodoo doll of the soap-buyer. It shan’t be pretty. Oh, no, it shan’t…