We all like mysteries, right? Sure we do. They’re like the best.
Want to help solve a mystery that happened at work today? I’d tell you there was a prize involved, but there’s no prize. Other than you can feel really proud of yourself that you solved a mystery, I suppose. Like, I’m sure Scooby-Doo and Shaggy feel pretty good about themselves when they unmask Old Man McGillicutty as the Coalpit Ghost or whatever. You, too, could feel proud of yourself like a stoner and his strangely oversized speaking dog!
First, let me set the scene.
Oh, disclaimer: this story’s kind of gross. Just a warning.
So at work today, I had to use the facilities. In our office, we have the following for ladies’ bathrooms on my floor: a large bathroom in the lobby, with four stalls; a smaller bathroom in our actual office, with two stalls; and a unisex bathroom that’s really for the men, but we can use it too, right next to the smaller bathroom. There are also bathrooms on the second floor and the first floor, but we don’t use those much. Why would we? If you need to use the elevator to get to the bathroom, that’s too far.
I was in the lobby area anyway, getting water (hence the needing to pee – I drink a LOT of water at work) and went into the big bathroom. I went into a stall that a woman had just come out of.
“Hmm,” thought I. “This stall sure smells like poo.”
So I turned around and there, on the toilet, ALL OVER THE TOILET, was all the poo.
But it was in the WEIRDEST PLACE EVER. Like, it was in a place poo had no reason to be.
I tried to draw you a photo of where the poo was, but my computer is NOT playing nice tonight. Probably too upset I’m writing a post about bathrooms. Anyway. Pretend you’re sitting on a toilet and you put your legs together and then put your calves back against the bowl. It’d be the front part of the bowl, facing you as you enter the stall. The outside part. NOWHERE NEAR WHERE A BUM GOES.
That’s where the poo was. All over there. SO MUCH POO.
So I was like, oh. Oh, WTF is this poo. But a woman had just come out of that stall. What if she was the pooper? And she was still in there washing her hands. So I stood in there as far from the poo bowl as I could and when she left I ran out and into the furthest stall from that stall as I could get only GUESS WHAT.
Totally poo, totally in the same place, TOTALLY ALL OVER THAT BOWL TOO.
OMG YOU GUYS WHAT THE HELL.
The middle two stalls were poo-free so I peed super-fast and got out (OMG YES I TOTALLY WASHED MY HANDS THAT PLACE WAS GERM CENTRAL) even though those two middle stalls have wonky doorlocks and you’ll be peeing and all of a sudden the door opens and you’re like oh no now you can see my hoo-hoo so no one ever uses those two.
Later in the day I had to pee again (I seriously drink a lot of water) and went into the small bathroom closer to my desk because, well, I wasn’t in the mood for all that poo. So I went into the stall and was all, aaahh, no poo, until I looked down and ZOMG YOU GUYS.
There was totally poo on the floor between the two stalls. Like, someone squatted and took a poo on the floor of the bathroom.
I was seriously flabbergasted at this development in the poo situation.
So I then washed up AGAIN super-fast and got out of there and looked for my boss because I was all, “Amy, you’ve got to report this poo thing” and she was at lunch so I told my coworker and she was like, “SERIOUSLY? I do not know what to say at this particular point in time” and I had to agree because listen, we work at a REALLY NICE PLACE! and we decided that emailing the facilities guy was probably the best move so I did and he emailed back “Thanks ~” and I don’t know what the tilde was for. Flair, maybe. Possibly because this was the actual email I sent him: “Hi: There is fecal matter all over two of the four toilet bowls in the women’s bathroom in the third floor lobby and someone defecated on the floor of the women’s bathroom near the copy room. I know. I am so sorry. We’re all sitting up here wondering what is wrong with the world. Thank you!”
But he never showed up and the poo abided. All day, actually.
And because we are children, we made poo jokes and giggled about the poo ALL AFTERNOON LONG. We made jokes about “doing our duty” and giving Depends out as Secret Santa gifts and all of the men in the office (there aren’t many of them) went in the women’s bathroom all giggly because they were expecting to see, I don’t know, pillowfights and tampons in there, or something, and one of them took a cell phone photo of the poo and they were all “WE CAN SOLVE THIS MYSTERY!”
They decided the toilet overflowed and deposited the poo there, but there was no water on the floor. We shot down that theory quickly.
I told my parents about this, and Dad got VERY SHOUTY. “That is the FIRST SIGN OF A DISGRUNTLED EMPLOYEE!” he shouted. “You stay vigiliant. STAY VIGILANT! There’s some sort of name for people who save their poo in plastic bags and put it places at work and also smear it all over. I don’t know what that name is, but the next step is bringing in an Uzi and killing all their coworkers. You should get pepper spray and scope out your exits.”
“That seems like a bit of an overreaction to the poo situation, Dad,” I replied.
Mom’s answer was just, “That is gross. Why would you tell me such a gross thing? One time I saw toilet paper on the floor of our bathroom. I couldn’t go in there ALL DAY.”
“That seems a bit of an overreaction to the toilet paper situation, Mom,” I replied.
So! Now it’s your turn, intrepid blog readers. What are your thoughts on the Office Pooper? Are the two poo-areas connected, or just separate things altogether? Is there any way poo could have gotten on the front of the toilet like that, or was someone purposely being smeary? How, exactly, did someone get poo on the floor of the toilet nowhere near the bowl? AND WHY?
There are no prizes for this mystery-solving, but you could add it to a resumé, if you wanted. SKILLS: Totally Badass Mystery Solving (Poo-Related)
I know. You had no idea when you clicked on today’s post you’d be a gumshoe. Or that there’d be so much poop involved.
Get to solvin’, little bloggonians. This mystery’s not going to solve itself. (Or clean itself. I’m so hoping the janitors come in tonight. Good gracious. I’m so disgusted with my office right now.)