Ross Cavins
| Raise the Damn Seat! |
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| Written by Ross Cavins | |
| Friday, 25 April 2008 | |
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My boss lives in a huge house on a nice street. He chooses which BMW to drive to work each morning (probably whichever set of keys he finds first). He owns properties all over the United States. And yet, he can't take the time to lift the seat when he relieves himself.  Difficult Concept? I think not. I really don't. Does the seat confuse him? How one part lifts and the other part stays? Is the mechanism too complex to mentally grasp? The man can add a column of figures in his head but can't wrap his head around the concept of a seat with a hinge? Or is the process itself simply too much to ask? Lean over, grab seat, flip up. Three easy steps to protect the seat for future use. Is it really that confusing? It's ridiculous that I now keep a can of bathroom cleaner on back of the toilet. I thought maybe he'd get the hint. He hasn't. I doubt he ever will. It's even gotten to the point that each time I go to the bathroom, my first instinct is to reach for the scrubbing bubbles instead of my zipper. Is it me or is that sad? I don't ask for much at work. A good chair. A computer that works. Ample office supplies. And to please, please ... pretty please ... raise the damn seat!
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One of my bosses is an eighty-five year old man. He still gets around and comes to work every day although he forgets his mobile phone all the time and misplaces his keys with abandon. Yet he can quote numbers and distant memories with the accuracy of the History Channel. It's amazing.
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