By April 25, 2007

You dropped a bomb on me

I went to the gym today, and as I do every Monday and Wednesday, followed up my cardio with ten minutes of tanning bed nukeage. I always spray down the bed with the supplied disinfectant before I get in. After hosing down the glass, I noticed that the wastebasket in the room was missing. I tossed the paper towels on the floor and ten minutes later I was thoroughly irradiated.

“So, uh, the wastebasket is missing in Bed 1,” I told the lady behind the desk.

Yeaaaaah,” she replied. “We had an issue with the wastebaskets.”

Uh oh. I hope someone didn’t shit in one.

My curiosity was piqued. “What kind of issue?”

She glanced at the her co-worker behind the counter. Her co-worker furiously started typing on a keyboard, eyes shifting away.

Yeah, somebody probably shat in one.

“If it’s that scary,” I said, holding my hands up, “you don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not scary.. It’s just that … someone couldn’t make it to the bathroom.”

Oh my god, someone did shit in one.

I explained that we had a similar “issue” when I worked for Eddie Bauer, way back in the early 90s. Someone asked to use our bathroom, and we told them that we didn’t have one for public use. There was a public restroom about fifty yards from our store. The person nodded. She shopped around a bit, took a polo into the dressing room, tried it on, and paid for it.

Later that night at closing, my co-worker Nick let out a yelp from one of the dressing rooms. Nick was from Greece — and when I say he was from Greece, the dude was from Greece. He was powerfully built, had dark hair and bushy eyebrows, and probably mumbled “SPARTANS! PREPARE FOR GLORY!” in his sleep. I moved over to the dressing room, and he had his shirt over his face. “Someone took a shit in the wastebasket.”

We drew straws, literally, to see who had to get rid of it. One of the stock guys “won.” Against management’s wishes, he threw the whole garbage bin away. They’d wanted him to scoop the deuce out somehow and disinfect the can. No matter who drew the shortest straw, I think our collective response to that idea was fuck that.

Anyway, here’s wishing that wherever you go, people poop where they’re supposed to.

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