November 7, 2011

November 7, 2011

Easy on the Hands

We seem to be having a bit of a controversy in the bathrooms at my workplace.

(Not that kind of controversy, ew.)

Soap-related controversy. It’s a tense passive-aggressive battle, really. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, because it makes for a better story.

The facts are these*:

Our bathroom sinks have pumps built into the countertop. These pumps are filled with pink soap. I assume the soap is standard industrial supply. It doesn’t have any strong odor or distinguishing features. I mean, to quote Chandler Bing, “Soap is soap.” I took no notice of it until the kerfuffle started.

Which happened when someone bought one Spa Originals liquid soap for each sink. Fancy soap. Soap that smelled like coconut, or the ocean, or the dreams of children named after flowers. Soap that was obviously meant to substitute for the inferior standard-issue soviet soap. So we used it. And the bottles slowly emptied. Until I thought it was going to be victory for the communists and their skin-melting soap.

Then new bottles of freedom soap showed up. This time, WITH MOISTURIZER! Oh the things a free market has to offer! Once this soap was gone, who knew what would show up? Foaming soap? Soap with glitter in it? Soap dispensed by a trained panda? Man, remember when we thought all soap was pink, smelled like turpentine, and turned our hands purple? HA!

Then, a chilling development.

For, today, the soap bottles had indeed been refilled.

With pink soap.

Those fascists were obviously just biding their time. Brilliant.

Soon, I will forget the smell of coconut, and the ocean, and the dreams of children named after flowers. Do those things still exist somewhere? I hope so.

* RIP, Pushing Daisies.

0 Fish in a Sea of Diet Coke: