Open Letter to the Manager of the Fast Food Restaurant with Icky Bathrooms

Dear Fast Food Restaurant Manager,

Thanks, I guess, for letting me use your bathroom?

I was hopeful that I would find a relatively clean washroom with sufficient paper, handsoap and hand towels, and thus chose your place of business in lieu of the gas station across the street.

I guess I was wrong.

You see, after doing the pee-pee dance and racing to the nearest stall, placing the ass gasket on the seat, and settling in, I let forth a sigh of relief which abruptly morphed into a horrific gasp! WHAT in THE hell is THAT on the wall?

In the interests of sensitivity and humanity, I shall refrain from describing in detail what was splattered and/or smeared on the stall wall and door, however, use your imagination and I'm sure you will reach the right conclusion.

So, dear Mr. or Ms. Manager, I must ask: Do you not use the potty? How could you not notice that atrocity? And I saw your daily sales chit sitting out on the counter and noticed that from 2-3 p.m. and again from 8-9 p.m. you were considerably slow and, quite frankly, there was ample opportunity for you and/or one of your peeps to make a cursory review of the cleanliness of the bathrooms. Why did you forego this simple task? Was it because you couldn't fathom having to clean THAT up off of the wall? Well, too bad! It's your potty!

So don some rubber gloves and a gas mask, grab the 409 and an SOS pad, and get your ass in there! I deserve a clean, bodily-fluid/substance-free potty experience with my value meal!