Men are nasty.

I walked into the bathroom that has been designated for use by the 3 female employees in our office and immediately deduced that one of the guys had been there. The telltale sign? The toilet seat was up. Upon further inspection, I discovered that the seat was also filthy.

As I was fumigating and degermifying the bathroom, I started experiencing violent flashbacks to when I supported myself in college for a year cleaning dormitories. I mostly worked in the girls' dormitories but occasionally, when God decided to punish me, I was banished to the guys' dorm. Naturally, I am all too familiar with cleaning up various expressions of men's nastiness.

Once, at the end of the school year, I had the pleasure of cleaning an empty men's athletic dorm. I lifted up a mattress in one of the rooms and fished out a tattered copy of Jugs Magazine, the pages of which were curiously stuck together. I couldn't drop that magazine fast enough when I realized why the pages were pasted together. It took every ounce of self-control I could muster to keep from running all the way home and plunging my hand in a sink full of bleach. Is it too much to ask that guys take their semen-stained magazines home with them for the summer?

I damned all men to hell the day I had to clean up after some asswipe who thought it would be funny to empty the contents of a fire extinguisher into a three-story stairwell. Mature.

On a side note: what is it about knowing a woman is on the floor that makes guys want to come out of their rooms and parade up and down the hallways half-naked? There is a fully functioning bathroom in each room; there is no logical reason to be walking the public halls wearing only underwear or a skimpy towel.

I never had to put up with these headaches when I worked the girls' dorm. I did learn one valuable life lesson though: men are disgusting. And today, I was reminded of how that truth does not change once they get older.