I have started a new adventure. I am a distributor for SeneGence. Basically it's makeup. Well, skin care and makeup. But the lip stick! Oh my, the lipstick! What a dream! Anyway, I am super pumped and I have a little party coming up so I am trying to get everything ready and trying to think of everything I might want or need. I haven't been to a demonstration or party for this before so I am flying by the seat of my pants. In that, I am trying to be mindful of cost. Starting up a business with on hand inventory is not cheap. So that is leaving me to be creative with the my wants and needs. Literally. I so I found myself in Michael's. (Crafty craft bonanza for you dull folks).
I am wondering the isles looking for ideas. When that familiar sensation hits me. I've gotta pee. I went from no pee to I have to pee now or we are going to have a situation on our hands, in like seconds. I've never peed at Michaels and didn't even know if they had a restroom there. So I wonder up to the front and I ask the guy if they have one. With little words he points his finger to the back of the store. There is a HUGE sign that says "Bathrooms." Oh, of course. I make my way down there and walk into a hallway that is typical of that type of business, outdated break room, storage room, non-working water fountain, and to the left - the ladies room. I open the door. The musty public bathroom air hits my face. I begin to survey my surroundings. Much like a cave, the floor is wet, the sink is dripping, the lights kinda flicker. Exactly the kind of restroom that would be available when my bladder is spasming. I can see the sign on the door that says "We pride ourselves in our restrooms. Please let someone know if our restrooms need attention." I can also see the timeline grid that should be signed off every few hours or so. It has no signatures since 2 days ago. Perfect.
There are only two stalls. A "standard" (read - miniature) and a handicap. I gently kick open the standard door and see a paper filled toilet and move on to the handicap stall. I see another paper filled toilet but dutifully decorated with urine splatter on the seat. No thanks. Being in the restroom had already doubled my bladder capacity and there's no room at the inn. I have to fix this. Now. So I head back to the standard stall and flush it. Twice. Just kidding. Three times. The water pressure there sucks and things weren't going down smoothly. If you read my bathroom blog, no need to explain the remaining process here. Meanwhile, a mom and a child have walked in. I hear the child scream that there is poo in that paper filled toilet. (I didn't get that close to see that! Puke!) The mom is hollering back "It's ok. Someone wasn't brave enough to flush it. Just flush it and go!" She also announced that she will be just out the restrooms looking at the baskets.
So, I'm sitting/hovered over the toilet and could hear the wincing of the child as he was seemingly cleaning up the mess. (No, I was not feeling even a little bit bad that I left that dirty stall for the next guy - which happened to be a kid. He was certainly braver than I!) I am just about done and prepared to wipe when I hear a frantic, "oh no, oh no, oh no!" I pause. "Stop, stop, stop," he silently screams in desperation. And as I sit there balanced over the seat, calves burning, holding the wadded paper in my hand, I look down and see the stream of poo water comin at me. I hear the boy frantically opening the stall door and his little feet running for the main door, screaming for his mom. I have jumped up and about plastered myself on the side of the stall (and if you read the bathroom blog you know I am as close to death in that moment than just about ever!). I do the only thing I could think of as the water was coming like someone just opened the dam, and just up onto the toilet seat. In that standing position, I wipe and pull up my pants. Now what the F am I supposed to do???
I hear the door open and hear a gasp and "Oh my god!" The mother of the boy has returned. I call out, "Hello?" At which point I heard the door close. Great. The drain on the floor between the stalls is not keeping up with the flow of the poo water. There is debris circling it. Half dissolved TP and particles of what I can only assume is poo. My gag reflex is hitting hard as I try to compose myself. Never in my life have I wished for wings more than this moment. I can hear the toilet next to me bubbling. This is not good. Not good at all. I am afraid to flush the one I am standing on in fear of having no place left to go if this one also becomes a volcano of a poo irruption.
A male employee opens the door. I hear him holler in, "anyone in here?" "Yes!" I scream out. I told him I was standing on the toilet in the small stall. "We are going to need you to come out. This bathroom is out of service." No shit Sherlock. What was your first clue? The water pouring from the toilet next to me? The smell of human waste mixed with my tears of fear? Or the small child that ran screaming for his life from this dungeon of doom? I tell the man that I am standing on the toilet and there is poo water on the floor, how was I supposed to get out? He actually says, "I guess, swim." I was not LOLing. This is not the time for jokes, buster. I muster out a "haha" and he says that he is sorry but they only have one mop. This too big a job for a mop. I look down at the poo water and visualize my fate. I have to get out of here.
I am so freaking out a little bit. I am a city girl. I don't do this kind of gross. Working in healthcare I can see the microbes floating around the water. There was C-diff, and I saw Noro pass by a moment ago, pretty sure that's E coli and that's definitely hepatitis over there. But I have to get out of here. I build up some courage and first bend over the cesspool landing my hands against the door. My torso and face are directly facing the water of death, if I drop my hands (or if the toilet seat shifts), I'm going in. I "walk" my hands down the door to the lock and unlock the door. I walk my hands back up the door and push off and land a standing position. This is where my fitness training has really come in handy, my stellar core strength kept me on top of that toilet seat! Now I have to get from the toilet seat to the door, from the door to my car, and from my car to the shower.
I take a few breaths and close my eyes. Don't know why, probably to just imagine not being there. And survey the floor for the lowest water level within reach. An audible "fuck" leaves my lips and I go for it. I stretch as far as I could and step a toe into the water. I can feel the cold liquid enter the holes of my breathable sports shoes and settle into the fibers of my socks. As quickly as I can feel that happening I have launched off the toilet seat with my other foot and fling myself against wall straight ahead but out of the stall. That foot also feels the cold cesspool creeping in. I hop to the side and out the door to dry land. There was no way I was going to wade in the shallow end to wash my hands today! Outside the door stand the male employee with a hand written sign for the door and a yellow wet floor sign. I'm not very amused. In fact, my feet are wet. Not just any kind of wet, POO WATER WET! I don't think I was even able to nice smile at him. I just kept walking. My cart with my crafty crafts was just outside the restroom. I looked at it and just kept walking. I walked straight to my car.
I got there and took off my sweater and tossed it onto the seat. I grabbed a plastic grocery bag that happened to be in my car with a return in it. I took the stuff out and put it on my back seat. I then sat on the edge of my car seat and proceeded to take off my shoes in "feels like" temp of like 15. I put my shoes and my socks in the plastic bag and tied it shut. I tossed it on the floor board and then used the hand sanitizer in my console to "wash" my hands and my feet. I drove home barefoot. I got home and grabbed the poo water shoe bag and walked barefoot in the freezing ass cold into the house. I went straight to the laundry room and tossed the poo water shoes and socks into the washer. Then went upstairs and took the most glorious shower of 2017.
Look, do the public a favor - if you are in a restroom, make sure the toilet flushed behind you. If it didn't, let a reputable (that's important cause many people don't give a shit about their jobs) employee know that their toilet isn't flush properly. I don't care if you lie and say you found it that way, just tell someone. No one wants to navigate through your poo water to safety.
Meanwhile, I am waiting for the onset of symptoms of giardia or tapeworms. I'll be sure to keep you updated. And when you come to my funeral, I want everyone to wear their ugly Christmas if it's cold and crazy glasses if it's not. Ok?
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