I work in a certain bookstore downtown, and my workspace happens to be a few yards away from the employee bathrooms. I can't help but notice you—my "esteemed" colleagues—taking unpaid company merchandise (i.e., books and magazines that we will later sell to unsuspecting customers) into the john with you for a little tête-à-tête. Perhaps you're not aware of the Fecal Fountain Factor. Well, let me hip you to the jive. The F3 is the invisible fecal cloud that travels EIGHT FEET in every direction after you flush your chocolate hostage down the toilet. Fucking-A, right! And not only that, but the shit mist remains in the air for like two hours after the fact, tainting everyone and everything in its path. If you love marinating in your own stink that much, at least show some respect for your coworkers and read YOUR OWN goddamn books on the crapper, not the ones en route to the sales floor. I highly doubt that you'd be keen on purchasing something from a store if you knew it had borne witness to some sweaty, grunting guy's steamy assquake.—Anonymous