Shit Story(s)

You read that right.  Shit stories.  That means more than one.  And...GO!
I used to work at Arnie's in Edmonds on the waterfront.  Fun job and I got to work with my cousin, Bre.  I originally got the job when I was 19 to work in the kitchen since I was finishing up my Culinary Arts degree, but they wanted me in a dress instead.  So, my job was mostly as a hostess.  Part of what I had to do was maintain the lobby, clean and stock the women's restroom, and then the obvious...seating patrons.  Well, Edmonds has a lot of old people living there.  A LOT.  And sometimes they have...accidents.  On several occasions I would go in and stock the bathroom and come out gagging.  But one time in particular stood out.  I went in to a literal shit storm.  I thought I was going to puke when I saw the "mess".  The manager told me to go ahead and clean it up and that it wasn't a big deal.  Really?  There was shit all over the toilet, behind the toilet, up the wall, up the stalls, the door, and all over the floor.  It looked like someone had put great effort into taking about 4 squares of toilet paper and smeared her shit around the bowl of the toilet and covered the seat.  Did this woman leave immediately?  Did she stay?  Was she in the dining room eating her dinner?  Good God, did she wash her hands?!!  I will never know.  But when my manager asked me to clean it, all I could do was laugh.  No thank you.  While she too, was wearing a dress, I was not about to get some strange old lady's poop on my dress.  Later in life, I wasn't even okay with Farrah pooping on me.  IT'S NEVER OKAY!!  So, my manager cleaned the shit and I kept my job and my dignity.

Another shit story and another job in good ol' Edmonds, WA.  I worked at Stevens Hospital.  Loved my job there.  Except one day that stood out in my mind was repeat of the above story.  I went into the restroom to check supplies which would be replaced by highly trained professional maintenance employees.  But I stumbled upon - not literally - another shit storm.  Shit EVERYWHERE.  Again, up the walls, all over the floor, covered the seat and handle, and I'm pretty certain it hit the ceiling.  At the hospital, I was not told to clean up the shit, but rather to put an "out of order" sign up and call maintenance.  I feel sorry for that person.  However, I came to the conclusion that they are pumping senior citizens with some sort of enima product for what I can only guess is for a colonoscopy-esque procedure.  Unfortunately, the warning label doesn't and yet should read:  "Do not leave your bathroom for any reason whatsoever....ever... until you are certain that you have lost 10 pounds instantly."

Well, that's it.  I'm tired so the effort I'm putting into this is pathetic.  Sorry.  Kinda.