The bathrooms at my work are full of many interesting items. For one, signs on the wall that say, "Please be kind and use the airspray." For two, cans of airspray on the back of the toilets. At first I was moved that my workplace was so dedicated to looking after the comfort of others. Later I realized, "What kind of animals need to be told to take care of their stink? And are we so stinky that we need three cans of spray...plus two wall air fresheners?"

There's also a sign over the sink reminding you to wipe down the counter if you spatter water on it. Again, what kind of messy pigs am I working with that they have to be specially told to do this?

We also have a lovely basket of goodies on the counter, which up until last week contained liquid soap, two kinds of hand lotion, and this strange jar of sparkly blue goo. The level in that jar never goes down, so obviously no one else knows what to do with it either.

That stuff is all well and good, but I have always been disappointed that we don't also have a little basket of tampons. The restaurant where I met mr rampy did, and I always found myself hoping it would be that special time of the month when I dined there just so I could take advantage of this tastefully displayed luxury.

Anyway, last week a little bottle of baby powder appeared in the work bathroom basket. I thought nothing of it at first. Maybe peeps use it on their hands. I don't know.

But today I went into a stall and found the baby powder perched on the back of the toilet. Okay. Is this some new trend? Am I going to be reading in the Trib this weekend about how all the movers and shakers are powdering their asses? And is that really something you'd want to share communally...ass powder?

Until I find out otherwise, I'm going to tell myself that someone had a hot date after work and was trying to squidge themselves into leather pants.