A Family Place

On Monday I discovered something very very disturbing about my workplace.
I walked into the bathroom only to be hit with the overwhelming stench of human feces. Now this was not like someone pooped, flushed and the smell was still lingering. This was like someone was crapping into their hands and then smearing the product on the walls a la Jackson Pollock.
I turn the corner to see an older woman, standing in front of the sink sans pants. Her legs and underpants are covered in fecal matter. Not wanting to embarrass her further (and wanting to get the hell outta there) I quickly fled the scene. I notified a manager of the situation and went to go clear my head.
Of course I had to share this news with a few of my fellow coworkers. Not all, mind you, just the ones with whom I spend the day in an odd one-upmanship of who can find the oddest thing the store sells. I saw one of these people and proceeded to attempt to tell them about what I saw. I say attempt because apparently I am five years old and cannot say "A woman crapped herself in the bathroom" without giggling for ten minutes.
My coworker looked at me and said "I have no sympathy for you women." Indignant, I demanded an explanation.
His explanation: occasionally (OK, pretty much on a daily basis) they have to remove various pornographic magazines from the men's room.
That's right. Men come into a bookstore, take a porno mag from the shelves, walk through the children's section to the bathroom, and proceed to jack one off. It boggles the mind.
My comment was that I firmly believed that it was worth the $5.99 to masturbate in the comfort of one's own home. But it would seem I am wrong.
When I approached another coworker to relay both pieces of information - the goings on in both male and female lavatories - he told me that he already knew about what happened in the men's room and that all the male employees have had to remove said magazines.
It has been almost 5 days since this revelation and I am still totally and utterly skeeved out.