I believe that it was Hunter S Thompson that said we live in a savage world. I have to agree with him.
Mear moments before I sat down to hammer out some sort of nonsensical rambling, my neighbor knocked on our door and asked us if we had used the laundry room. My mother and I told him no, and asked why. Usually its because someone left their cloths inside one of the machines or something of that matter. Well, it wasn't that. The query was because when our neighbor walked into the laundry room, it smelled. Real bad. It wasn't mildew either. Upon inspection, the culprit was found.
Some one dropped a deuce in the garbage can.
He quickly disposed of it and that's where we come in with him knocking at my door.
I'll admit, I chuckled a bit. Shit is funny. The fact that used food matter combined with colon lined bacteria that emits an odor of death to be used in horrible ways has entertained mankind since the dawn of time.
My brother has an extensive photo collection of the alphabet.. I'll leave it at that.
Though, it dose remind me of an experience I had at work, one that pushed me like a desperate mother pushes her bastard child in front of a bus, into the person I am today.
When I was working a the Family Twin Cinema, I was a one man army. I did everything>. And I'm not tooting my own horn.. I literally did everything. I was like a Mexican migrant worker at this place.
Now, this place wasn't big. There was the lobby, and two theaters. The lobby was the size of a small apartment, so I could see everyone coming in and out during the movies. Well, this one day, a man who looked like he told death that he'd be back home in an hour shuffled out of the theater doors. I was behind the counter, not working, and watched as this guy took 3 minutes to walk across the 15 feet of floor to the bathroom. He went in and I went back to reading my stack of comic books I smuggled in while the boss was sleeping in the other theater.
About 35 minutes went by, and I finished all 12 books I had picked up that day (I bought everything at this time of my life..even Teen Titans GO!) I decided to actually do some work, and started cleaning up around the place. I grabbed my nifty spray bottle and sauntered into the men's bathroom. I cracked open the door and beheld a sight that could not be unseen.
There, standing at the sink, was the old guy, bare ass. He didn't see me and I saw everything I didn't want to see (so many spots) and walked right out. I figured the guy was a bit soft in the head and put an out of order sign on the door to give the guy some time to put his pants back on.
25 minutes rolls by and he finally walks out. It was at this time that my boss finally came back out to the front and I point at him that the old guy walking back into the theater had his pants off in the bathroom. We both laughed and thought it was funny and I walked into the bathroom to clean it.
The second that door swung open.. my spidey senses started tingling. Something was amiss. I opened the door to the first stall, and it was like a moment out of a movie, when the hero comes upon a crime scene, and his eyes bulge out and his head moves like a cat following a flash light on the wall. Word's failed me.
The stall looked like a bear had eaten one to many tacos, and couldn't hold it. There was shit EVERY WERE! Not just on the toilet, but the stall, the toilet paper holder, the floor. Oh, the floor. When my eyes were adverted downwards, I noticed the mass of shit on the floor, but that wasn't all. I noticed that it moved like a trail of ants, all the way to the sink....
Walking over to the sink, it was Destroyed! Just nibblits of shit everywhere. Apparently, when I walked in on the old fuck, he was cleaning his pants off. I know this because he threw away his boxers in the paper towel trash can. I swear, infants are cleaner than this fuck was.
I walked outside to get some air, and called my boss over. I couldn't be the only witness to this. He came over and I told him to walk inside, not telling him what lied beyond. He took two steps in, I heard a gag, and he walked out, put his hand on my should and said.."GOOD LUCK"
I mumbled a racial slure in anger (but the dude was white, so it dint matter) and grabbed 3 bottles of bleach and 2 mops. Over the next half hour, and I was rushing as people would start coming in for the next showings very soon, I scrapped and mopped poop like a CSI cleaner. Just chunks and niblits of what this man ate in a redwood tree's worth of paper towels. Pants ruined from gallons of bleach being sloshed around. I think I got high, or brain damage, from the bleach fumes combined with the air freshener. When I was done, the place was cleaner than a hospital O.R.
As the movie ended, I sat complacently behind the counter, giving the old bastard the best stink eye I could> It went unnoticed..
From that day forward, my tolerance for people dropped by spades. For when you have to clean a grown mans shit out of a sink, you've seen the 1 ring of hell.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
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