Your Number One Is Not Their Number One Priority

(I’m in my office, taking a toilet break. I’m just sitting there, doing my business, when I hear the janitor come in. It’s a small washroom with only two stalls, so it’s not long before she reaches mine. She pushes on the door and sees it’s in use, so I assume that’s it. Less than twenty seconds later, she shakes the door, muttering something angrily.)

Me: “Sorry, I’m in here!”

Janitor: *shakes the door again*

Me: “Just a moment, I’m still going.”

(I hear more angry muttering. I get about five seconds of respite… and then she sticks her hand under the door with a rag, trying to clean the floor despite the stall still being in use.)

Me: *quickly pulling my legs back* “Yeesh, okay!”

(I was not done, but I quickly finished up anyway and left. The janitor pushed in the moment I was out. She kept glaring as me as I washed and dried my hands. I get that she was probably on a schedule to get the washrooms cleaned, but can’t you give someone a minute? Or at least ask nicely?)