Work Stories: Episode 56: Brownies

Ah yes.  Previously on Work Stories, I wrote about a time that I got yelled at because a woman wanted to come and go from a paid parking lot as much as she pleased.  That’s what I wrote about.  I forgot about that and had to look it up.  It wasn’t that exciting of a story.  That might be why I forgot what it was.  This week, I’ll try to think of something more exciting to write about.

Here we go.  I’ll write about what happened to me yesterday at work because it’s so fresh in my mind.  This is a forum for me to get my stories about work out, and the only people who know about this story are me and the person who was working with me.  You’re getting this story third, or fourth, or whatever you are in the order of the people who decide to read this Work Story.  Get ready.

I didn’t take a lunch to work yesterday so I had to go out and get one.  Five minutes from work is a Subway sandwich shop.  I went there, ordered a sweet onion chicken teriyaki footlong and went back to work.  It was a chilly walk because it’s winter.  When I got back, I put my food on the desk in our back office and went to wash my hands.  I wasn’t going to eat with hands that had been handling money from strangers.  Who knows what happened with the money?  I don’t know.  I’ll wash my hands before eating, thank you very much.

I walked out of our office and went into the washrooms.  When I opened the door, I immediately shut it again, went into our office, grabbed the key, and locked up the washrooms.  Why would I do this?  Why would I not allow people to use our washrooms?  Here’s why.  When I opened that washroom door, I saw brown everywhere.  Someone had pretty much exploded on the toilet.  I’m not sure how their crap got in some of the places it got, but it was everywhere.  My appetite was gone.

I no longer cared about eating my sandwich.  Instead, I had to clean up someone else’s shit because they didn’t do it themselves.  I could rant for the rest of this post about how I hate people who don’t clean up after themselves, especially when it comes to bodily waste like this, but I won’t.  That’s not what I want the Work Stories to be about.  Instead, I will tell you all about cleaning it up.  Maybe you’ll lose your appetite too.

The first thing I did after locking the washrooms was to put an Out of Order sign on the door.  That’s just a considerate way to tell people that they cannot use the washroom for the time being.  Then I went to get supplies.  I put on a mask so that I wouldn’t throw up from the smell of someone’s shit.  I got a mop and a bucket to clean the floors.  I put on gloves so that I wouldn’t get shit on my hands.  I grabbed a toilet scrubber and some heavy-duty cleaner.  The final supply that I needed was air freshener.  That could be the most important when it comes to cleaning a washroom.  It masks the smell, allowing the person who is cleaning to be in the washroom for more than seconds at a time.  Then I headed to the washroom.

Of course, I sprayed about half of the can of air freshener in the washroom in order to make it bearable.  The place stunk horribly.  After that, I went and flushed the toilet.  Apparently the person who shat everywhere didn’t take the time to push the lever and flush the toilet.  That was disgusting.  Then there was the toilet seat.  It looked fine, until you lifted it up and saw shit all over the bottom of it.  Disgusting.  Oh, and somehow there was some liquid shit on the front of the rim of the toilet bowl.  I don’t even know how that is possible.  Were they AC Slatering the toilet?

I flushed, I scrubbed, I threw the poison cleaner stuff in the toilet, I scrubbed some more, I flushed again, and I mopped.  Then I mopped the hallway from the bathrooms just to be safe.  I did see some sort of liquid there.  I wasn’t going to take any chances.  After that, I was done.

It was a job that ruined my lunch.  How could I possibly enjoy my sandwich when I had just cleaned someone’s crap because they couldn’t give enough of a damn to do it themselves?  That’s right, I couldn’t.  I would like to thank whoever shat all over the bathroom for making me waste money on buying one of the better sandwiches over a simple ham and cheese.  I would have enjoyed the ham and cheese as much as the chicken teriyaki because my senses had been dulled.  What a waste.

That’s this week’s Work Story.  How about that one?  Better than last week’s.  Definitely better than last week’s.  I hope you agree.  Next week I’ll try and keep up this one week streak of decent Work Stories.

Until then, sell me this pen.