Blood and Bullets

I was inspired for a post as I cleaned the men's room this morning. I always knock before entering, even if I am pretty certain the room is not occupied. I like surprises, just not ALL surprises.

I had been mowing and decided to just open the doors to see what supplies I would need. The ladies room was okay, smelled like shampoo. Didn't need much, just a routine once over. Lately, the men's room has been ....... um ..... challenging.

I have signs up on both restroom doors that prohibit smoking. I went a step further and put signs inside the restrooms. I put the one in the men's room over the toilet, but I still find butts in the toilet. Cigarette butts, that is. The small trashcan located next to the toilet is always full of odd things. Beer cans, banana peels, candy wrappers and apple cores. Sometimes there will be a line of ants marching towards it. I rarely find the empty toilet paper tube there. It will still be on the dispenser.

They will open a new roll and place it on the back of the toilet, but like all men everywhere, they seem to be unable to figure out how to change it out and put the new roll on the dispenser. This is not a fancy industrial type that requires a key. Just a plain old wall hung dispenser that holds one roll of paper. You push the roller in the center and remove it to place a new roll on after disposing of the empty card board tube. So simple.

But, I know you are wondering about the title. You want to know where and why I might mention blood, and ammunition. Did you really think I would get to the point that easy? The blood was in the sink and on the wall. Maybe a shaving accident? Or, maybe a sneeze that was extraordinary? Or, ........ maybe a story worthy of a Dateline episode?

Perhaps the bullet on the floor had something to do with that blood. Maybe the sound of the truck back firing was really a gun shot! I have a sign posted on my door that states the fact that we do not allow fire arms on the premises. But, I also have signs that tell you to STOP and go ONE WAY. Signs that tell you to SLOW DOWN and WATCH FOR CHILDREN and signs everywhere that state the speed limit is 10 MPH.

I scrubbed the blood and what looked to be tobacco juice off the walls and front of the sink, cleaned the toilet and changed out the toilet paper rolls, mopped the floors and tossed the garbage. It is a mystery, the blood and the bullet. We may never know the rest of the story.