My Office Life – Part 1

I hate traffic. Not that anyone loves it. Like many, I have opted to go to the office early before the rush hour traffic begins. I love to drive. I hate scratches on my car. People somehow have the misconception that women are always at fault when they are seen anywhere near an accident. I am not someone who can scream my way out of an argument.

I always accept the mistake even if it wasn’t my fault when I see the other person angry. Maybe that’s the reason why I reach my office at 7:30 am when rest of my colleagues come in by 9 am. I like to drive my brand new car through the slowly building up traffic listening to radio. How does the RJ say so many new things every day without boring the public? I never could understand.

Well, there are many more things that I don’t understand in this world. Like, why does my office not employ any female workers to clean women’s restroom? Coming to that, our office is not an MNC which employees thousands of employees. It is a small building with 4 floors employing around 70 workers. I am on the third floor. I have a corner seat next to glass window looking down on the non-stop flow of traffic below. I like the view.

As usual, I walked into the deserted office. I was again the first one in. I bring my breakfast with me every day. I look down at the street and open my tiffin box. I eat slowly, take my sweet time to finish it. I hear a sound of the door open on my floor. Like I said. It was the male cleaner. He had a bucket and mop with him. He starts his work at the same time I come in.He looks at me and goes inside the area where the restrooms are situated. I wanted to wash my hands but now I have to wait till he cleans the women’s restroom till I can go in. Not that anyone can stop me. But I have always felt it weird to have man anywhere I pee.

I waited 15 mins till he came out and walked hurriedly out. I immediately walked in to clean my curry filled fingers which had now become dry. I walked into the series of wash basin and started cleaning my hands. I washed my tiffin and was about to walk out when the door slammed open just missing my face. It was the cleaning guy again with phenol in his hand. I was shocked. He apologized instantly and came towards me.

I instantly took few steps back which made him stop short in his tracks. He made way for me and I walked past him embarrassed. Not sure why I felt that way. But that is what I felt anyway. I sat in my seat and pretended to work when he came out and did not look towards him. He stopped and he walked out of the room. Maybe he decided not to apologize anymore.

At 9:00 am my office was a hell hole. People screaming, shouting, cracking jokes. There was only 15 people in that floor and only 2 women. She was on a maternity leave, leaving me the only one to use that restroom. I felt happy that I am making that cleaner clean the entire restroom only for me every single day. Serves him right.

Next day was no different, I came at 7:30 am. Had breakfast. Waited for the cleaner to come and clean. But he was late. Today was different, I needed to pee and I can’t wait for the cleaner to come and take 15 mins. So I thought of quickly finishing my business unnoticed. I went inside the restroom, stepped inside an empty toilet.

The specialty of the toilet door was that it was a half door. The bottom 20% was visible. I was in my jeans and top. I quickly pulled down my jeans and sat. I was so worried that he would come anytime that I was not able to pee at all.

Finally, I calmed myself down and flow started. And the expected happened. I heard the door open. The sound of my pee sounded like Dolby digital echo. I quickly flushed to overpower that sound and also as an indication to the cleaner that somebody is inside the loo. I thought he will go away but I could not hear the door opening again, so he decided to stay. I heard a sound of the bucket being dragged and the smell of phenol. If he comes near my door he would be able to my jeans stripped down to feet and some bare skin.

I decided to move fast and get up and pull up my jeans but before that, I saw the bristles of the mop making it ways from below. He had deliberately skipped 3 doors and come to where I was. I knew he was a crooked guy.Without wasting any time I got up and pulled up my jeans. I am not sure if he would have seen my legs. But I just quickly buckled up and opened the door and came out. He was now standing little far away, turning to the other direction. I washed my hands and walked out without looking at him.The rest of the day went without any incidents.

Now I had a new headache to deal with along with the traffic. The restroom cleaner. Thank goodness it was the weekend. I forgot about the incident. It was my friend’s wedding and we hogged like pigs on Sunday night. It was not until Monday morning when I was driving to the office I felt a rumbling in my stomach. Maybe the mutton was troubling me in its afterlife.

I somehow parked the car in the office and hurried to the restroom. The vomiting sensation was overpowering me as I climbed 3 stairs at a time. I pushed open the door of the restroom startling the cleaner who was “by chance” already present there. I stared at him in disbelief.

I jumped to the washbasin. But alas, the puke already left my stomach, spilling a bit on my shirt. I managed to then puke my stomach out. The previous day’s undigested content filled the basin to my disgust. The stomach pain crept along taking more of my brains CPU. I clutched my stomach and more puke filled the basin. Was I going to pass out now? I looked for something for support. Else I am going to fall in my own vomit.

I felt weightless for few seconds and then a strong clamp on both my shoulders. I looked and found the cleaner had held me by my shoulder and I was putting my entire weight on him to carry. I did not want to pass out. I shook my head urging my brain to reboot. The restart would take some time.

Till then I let the cleaner control my rotary system. He held my shoulders tightly and bend me. There was another wave of vomit coming through. I puked hard. I felt a palm rubbing my back vigorously. To my luck, that was last one.I felt better. Now only the stomach pain remained. I was pulled back and made to sit on a steel stool available there.

I sat there with both my hands clutching my stomach. There were traces of vomit on my shirt. Damn, I don’t even have a spare top. The whole place smelled bad. I wanted to say sorry but I was too embarrassed to even say that. I sat there. The cleaner had this palm on my back and still stroking me gently. I wanted to tell him to stop but I had no courage to even say that.

The cleaner then took a bucket and started filling it with water. I sat there waiting for the stomach pain to subside.He poured the water all over the wash basin to clean my puke. I felt sad for him. He took and cloth and started wiping the vomit. I thought of actually helping him. But decided against it. I sat there ashamed of my actions. Within minutes he made the place clean again. Without even a word being spoken, he gave me some tissue paper.

I wiped my mouth with it and threw it in the dustbin. He again gave me some more. I smiled and refused to take it.He then pointed to my chest. I looked down and remembered that I was covered with my vomit. I wanted to throw away my top if not for the cleaner who was standing there. I just sat there still without knowing what to do.I then took the tissues and started rubbing it on my breasts trying to remove the stains but it had dried and smelled horrible.

The cleaner spoke the first words. He told me that if I gave away the shirt to him, he will wash it and get it ironed and bring it. There was small dupatta that I always carry with me. I told him to bring it from my draw. The idea was to give him my shirt and cover myself with the dupatta till he comes back with my dry shirt. He left without a question.I went inside the toilet and removed my shirt. I was in my bra. I decided not wash the entire shirt but only the part where there were stains.

I started the pipe and started filling up the bucket with water. I was about to wash but to my horror the toilet door opened and the cleaner was standing there with m dupatta. The cleaner looked more shocked than me seeing me in my bra. He thought I wanted to rub the stains on the shirt with my dupatta dipped in water. How can I not lock the door? I pulled the dupatta from him and covered my breasts with it. I let him take a good look at my exposed navel.

He looked like he was suddenly aroused. I told him to wait out and quickly slammed the door and bolted it. I quickly cleaned the stains on the shirt making sure only very few portion got wet.

I then properly covered my top half with the dupatta. I left the navel exposed. Breasts were to remain covered properly. I came out of the toilet to find the cleaner standing few inches outside the door. He again looked at my navel without blinking. I cleared my throat to bring back his attention onto my face. I gave him the shirt. He again double checked it for stains that I had missed.

He said he will be back in 5 minutes. There was no way to lock the main entrance to the restroom. I had to sit inside the toilet till he came. Not that anyone would come. It was only 8 am still a long time till other colleagues arrived.

He came back in 5 mins. He came in and this time called me as madam. I came out in the same state as before. His eyes were feasting on my navel. I took the shirt from him and was about to turn back and go inside, he called me again. I stopped and turned towards him.

He came close to me and with his hand he stroked my bare navel in a jiffy. A current passed through me. He quickly turned around and left without another word. I was shocked. I wore the buttons of my shirt in slow-motion. I was afraid to go out.

With all my courage I left the restroom after an hour. I looked around but did not find him. I saw one of my male colleagues had arrived. I felt relieved. I kept looking for him to arrive but he did not for the entire day.

The next day I decided to come late. I was caught in heavy traffic. I reached the office very late.

The whole day I looked for him but he did not visit my floor at all. For some unknown reasons, I wanted to meet him.I wanted to know why he stroked my navel. If he wanted he could have done more but he did not. The only way to find out was to come early again. The next day I was in at 7:30 am. I waited patiently for him to arrive.

Finally, he came, without looking at me he silently went inside the restroom. The suspense was killing. I got up and decided to go in myself. I went inside, he was standing there as if he was expecting me there. I wanted to ask him but before I did, he came near me. I almost stopped breathing.

He stood very close to me and looked into my eyes. No words came out of me. His hands slowly crept on the end of the t-shirt and slowly lifted it up bringing into view my navel which he had already seen. His hand was now resting on my belly button and I did nothing to resist. I like it he said and walked out again.

I realized that he was navel lover. He loved my navel. I went back and sat in my seat. My heart pumping like crazy. I felt a new wave of excitement. Someone was a true lover of my navel.

I waited for next day to arrive.

To be continued.