(Oprah.com) -- On any given day here at "O, The Oprah Magazine," there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 69 very talented, extremely detail oriented, high-energy, hardworking women and men all doing their jobs and doing them well. I love a few of them, I like a lot of them, I despise one of them. She is the Magneto to my Wolverine, the Saruman to my Frodo, the Dr. Octopus to my Spiderman. I call her The Tinkler. It's a typical Tuesday; the office is humming along. I'm answering e-mails, writing cover lines, scheduling a dental appointment here, partial highlights there, kicking myself for not getting sushi at lunch. The sun is shining, the color printer is working -- my life is good.
@highlight
Women's bathroom is defiled by The Tinkler
@highlight
Columnist tries to figure out who's guilty of peeing on seat
@highlight
Decides she is "aggressively mean-spirited, mole-like cavewoman"
@highlight
Writer yearns for modicum of civility, a touch of class, or supply of Lysol
The Tinkler
The Tinkler
I've gotten flowers and I've gotten fired (and I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything to deserve either), but I've never experienced anything like @placeholder.
The Tinkler
The Tinkler
"You mean you've figured out the identity of @placeholder?"
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