The Natural World Around Us

I'll go ahead and apologize for the content of this post.
It is disturbing and in poor taste.
If you'd like to come back at a later time or a more civil post, feel free to do so now.

No one stopped reading.
No surprise there.
You people are twisted.
The men's room on my floor at work is being cleaned pretty constantly. As a result, I frequently have to seek out other places or resort to using an empty Pepsi bottle in my cubicle.
I've recently discovered the men's room on the ground floor near the cafeteria.
It isn't particularly special. There are a couple of stalls and a few urinals. There is a sink with water which is hot if not high-pressure, and there are always enough paper towels.
The weird thing seems to be the temperature.
Right now it is in the thirties outside.
Due to some long-lasting malfunction with the ventilation system or thermostat or something, this particular men's room is always warm. Balmy, even.
Like high-eighties or low-nineties warm.
It is quite pleasant and nap inducing, to be honest.
There are, however, unanticipated side effects of this unnatural warmth.
There is a colony of flies which dwells in this restroom.
They are small and slow-moving and look like nothing so much as the player ship from Yar's Revenge (pictured above, in white).
They have opaque wings and cling to the walls and mirror for hours at a time without moving (judging, non-scientifically I admit) on visual survey conducted over several visits.
These are not flies which are drawn to this room by some paranormal force, this is a viable breeding colony of insects with a population which cyclically waxes and wanes.
This morning I noticed an abundance of the little black things.
Since I was alone in the restroom I took the opportunity to kick open the stall doors and flush each toilet in turn.
With each flush, no fewer than five flies were dislodged from under the rim to swirl and vanish.
Part of me wants to know what these things are.
A larger, more visceral part, is afraid to Google it. I fear that I will discover that they are the carriers of some rare tropical disease.
I fear even more (and this fear is the one that keeps me from Google for long periods of time) that Google searching for them will educate me about some bizarre internet fetish.
So.
That is the story of the weirdness in one of the men's rooms at work.
Thank you for sparing me the necessity of talking about it over dinner with my family.