As I approached the door to the ladies’ room, I could hear someone inside grabbing way more paper towels than what is needed to dry one’s hands. When I got to the doorway, I looked down to see a spill—coffee, if I’m not mistaken—seeping underneath the door and make it’s way onto the hallway’s carpet, following suit: the aforementioned paper towels.

A friendlier person would’ve opened the door and offered to help. I am not that person; I turned around and quickly made my way back to my desk. Plus, who the fuck takes coffee into the bathroom with them?