Hunter SS
Growing Old Disgracefully
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2009
- Messages
- 416
- Reaction score
- 15
- Points
- 0
- Location
- Upper Hunter Valley NSW
- Members Ride
- 2006 VE SS
A few years ago I worked as a floor manager in a high end pub in the CBD. One busy Friday night, a customer approaches me looking slightly green around the gills and tells me that there is a problem with the male toilets.
I open the door to the bathroom and am assaulted by a smell that enveloped my skin and clung on to it like a putrid oyster. This smell was so bad that I actually had to turn right around and walk back out, eyes watering, trying my damnedest not to power hurl.
Summoning my courage, I went back in, once again feeling the foul miasma wash over me. Imagine having barbed wire ripped backwards out of your butt whilst been punched in the nose by Mike Tyson, whilst John Holmes plows your missus right in front of you. Now imagine all that pain and anguish been magically turned in to a smell and being forced up your nose. That was how I felt.
Determined to find the source of this stench I queasily scanned the room. Apart from the normal level of disgust I feel whenever I walk into a public toilet, everything was fairly normal. No obvious signs of the sweating obese guy who doused himself with rotting offal and then shat himself to death that could be the only remotely possible source of the odour that was steadily devouring my resolution and was threatening to reduce me to a quivering, sobbing, shell of a man. I looked over and realised that it had to be coming from one of the 4 stalls.
Bang! I kick the first door open. Nothing.
Bang! I kick the second stall door open. Same result.
One stall to go.
Bang!.......I didn't quite know what I was looking at.......then it hit me. With an amazing feat of courage and steadfastness I resisted the urge to curl in to the fetal position and cry my eyes out, I surveyed the destruction.
****! There. Was. ****. Everywhere! The four walls of the stall covered in ****! The floor was a a fecal waste ground that would have given the most hardcore hillbilly mudder pause! With a mounting sense of dread I turned my eyes skyward. Yes...........There was even **** on the roof!
Unable to withstand any more I turned and ran, nearly breaking the toilet door off it's hinges, such was the speed of my retreat. Outside in the relatively fresh air that smelled comparatively sweetly of body odour, cigarettes and beer, I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath and will down the vomit that was threatening to burst forth. I couldn't remember my name, I didn't know where I was, I couldn't feel my legs.
Luckily the place I was working for hired cleaners. These consisted of a group of diminutive and unassuming Chinese dudes who would rock around all night and dutifully sweep up discarded cigarette butts and coasters, and mop up spilled drinks. One of these unfortunate fellows was happening by as I burst out of the gateway to hell that used to be the toilets outside of the gaming room. I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him square in the eye. With the feeling that I assume field commanders get when they order a fellow comrade killed because his injuries are too horrific to possibly make it back to base, I told him that there had been an accident and to go get a mop......... I then ran away, not wanting to meet that cleaner again as he must surely still hold a vendetta against me.
I stand by my actions though. It was him or me and the four horsemen of the apocalypse could not get me back in to that bathroom.
Later, when I was at home and had showered seven times, I was lying in bed unable to sleep because of the trauma I had endured. I speculated that the only way a person could spread so much diarrhea around was too stand on the rim of the bowl, bend over, and let rip whilst turning a slow circle. I still, 7 years later, have not been able to work out a plausible explanation of why someone would do such a thing or how in the name of all that's holy it got on the ceiling?
Moral of the story: Never underestimate the level of nauseating, disgusting, fundamentally deranged actions that human beings are capable of perpetrating. To do so only leads to disappointment and not been able to sleep properly for several nights.
I open the door to the bathroom and am assaulted by a smell that enveloped my skin and clung on to it like a putrid oyster. This smell was so bad that I actually had to turn right around and walk back out, eyes watering, trying my damnedest not to power hurl.
Summoning my courage, I went back in, once again feeling the foul miasma wash over me. Imagine having barbed wire ripped backwards out of your butt whilst been punched in the nose by Mike Tyson, whilst John Holmes plows your missus right in front of you. Now imagine all that pain and anguish been magically turned in to a smell and being forced up your nose. That was how I felt.
Determined to find the source of this stench I queasily scanned the room. Apart from the normal level of disgust I feel whenever I walk into a public toilet, everything was fairly normal. No obvious signs of the sweating obese guy who doused himself with rotting offal and then shat himself to death that could be the only remotely possible source of the odour that was steadily devouring my resolution and was threatening to reduce me to a quivering, sobbing, shell of a man. I looked over and realised that it had to be coming from one of the 4 stalls.
Bang! I kick the first door open. Nothing.
Bang! I kick the second stall door open. Same result.
One stall to go.
Bang!.......I didn't quite know what I was looking at.......then it hit me. With an amazing feat of courage and steadfastness I resisted the urge to curl in to the fetal position and cry my eyes out, I surveyed the destruction.
****! There. Was. ****. Everywhere! The four walls of the stall covered in ****! The floor was a a fecal waste ground that would have given the most hardcore hillbilly mudder pause! With a mounting sense of dread I turned my eyes skyward. Yes...........There was even **** on the roof!
Unable to withstand any more I turned and ran, nearly breaking the toilet door off it's hinges, such was the speed of my retreat. Outside in the relatively fresh air that smelled comparatively sweetly of body odour, cigarettes and beer, I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath and will down the vomit that was threatening to burst forth. I couldn't remember my name, I didn't know where I was, I couldn't feel my legs.
Luckily the place I was working for hired cleaners. These consisted of a group of diminutive and unassuming Chinese dudes who would rock around all night and dutifully sweep up discarded cigarette butts and coasters, and mop up spilled drinks. One of these unfortunate fellows was happening by as I burst out of the gateway to hell that used to be the toilets outside of the gaming room. I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him square in the eye. With the feeling that I assume field commanders get when they order a fellow comrade killed because his injuries are too horrific to possibly make it back to base, I told him that there had been an accident and to go get a mop......... I then ran away, not wanting to meet that cleaner again as he must surely still hold a vendetta against me.
I stand by my actions though. It was him or me and the four horsemen of the apocalypse could not get me back in to that bathroom.
Later, when I was at home and had showered seven times, I was lying in bed unable to sleep because of the trauma I had endured. I speculated that the only way a person could spread so much diarrhea around was too stand on the rim of the bowl, bend over, and let rip whilst turning a slow circle. I still, 7 years later, have not been able to work out a plausible explanation of why someone would do such a thing or how in the name of all that's holy it got on the ceiling?
Moral of the story: Never underestimate the level of nauseating, disgusting, fundamentally deranged actions that human beings are capable of perpetrating. To do so only leads to disappointment and not been able to sleep properly for several nights.