Look at me WRITIN'

I honestly have other shit I should be doing right now. But I am pissed and needed to vent. Since my wife has heard this rant before, I will now let all of you douchehammers read about it.
I spent most of my working life in workplaces that were not dominated by either of the sexes. Working in the restaurant industry, outside of the cooks, busboys, and the other bartenders, it was all women. I worked in the banking industry for a while, and that was about 55/45 men to women, at least in the department I worked in. Finally in human services, which again, in my situation, was split pretty evenly male to female staff. Now our residents were all male, but I digress. I now find myself working in a school, an elementary school, in which there are about five dudes in the building, not counting the principal and the two maintenance men/security guys. You may ask where the fuck I am going with this? Well, the topic is this: Sharing bathrooms at work with the opposite sex.
At the banking job, we had our own shitters, so I didn’t have to worry about sharing a bathroom, and the same went for the restaurants. I am pretty sure the only women who went into the men’s bathroom were ones that were giving the hot, young line cook head for coke before the wedding’s dinners were served. The residential home was shared by all the staff and the residents, but the residents (aka retards amirite?) did all sorts of ill shit like poop in the toilet brush holders and in the radiators, so the bathroom was nasty regardless of the sex of those using it. Queen Elizabeth and the ghost of Lady Di could have been dropping cords in there, that wouldn’t sully up more the stench of baking shit in the radiators.
That brings me to my current place of bathroom sharing, the elementary school. The regular faculty bathrooms are about a half-mile from our wing, so everyone who needs to go, goes in this tiny bathroom that is in a storage closet that used to be a classroom. When I say tiny, I mean when you walk in the door, you have the paper towel dispenser about shoulder level on your right and you have to do some Barry Sanders-type shit to avoid the commode right in front of you. For the past month, I have been making quick dashes in there after walking the class to lunch, specials, recess, etc, to piss and every time I come out with a new distain for those I share that bowl with.
The piss of a woman is a hideous odor; I have come to find out. It is this nasty, pungent odor that smells like what the rotting anal-scent glands of a skunk must smell like after being dead for two weeks in the middle of the summer. I never have noticed this with my wife, thank god, and that is reason number 23455 that I married her I suppose. But these middle-aged women secrete this awful smell that isn’t bad enough, but after they piss, they like to disguise the smell of their hideous urine by spraying 400 gallons of dollar store Lysol on top of it. This odor hits you harder than the paper towel dispenser. It makes me not want to piss. I drink a gallon of water a day and the desire to not piss has my bladder working at marathoner levels just to avoid the gag-inducing murky piss water that I have to stand over in a tiny 6 by 6 closet.
You may say, “John, just piss somewhere else.” Trust me, those options are even worse because the other bathroom is the one in the room, and that is used by 20 6 and 7 year olds. I had to use the kids bathroom by the cafeteria, which has the most traffic of any bathroom in the building, and once I touched the door knob and felt an inch of dried piss and kid grime, I pissed in record time without touching anything but my dick in the process.
So I am stuck…I have to go into that little box of an aqueous solution of waste electrolytes and metabolites twice a day and just suck it up. Fuck you women and your hideous urine, the worst you are possibly going to get from me is a drop on the seat. RANT FIN.