Erstwhile Muse

Frighteningly enough, I've been there…

Shortpacked! is © David Willis

Alright, well maybe not in exactly this position—luckily for me I can't recall anything quite this hideous ever happening in any of the retail establishments I have worked at in the past, although as Dan can attest we were certain some unfortunate instances were bound to happen involving some of The Soldiery's more ample customers and the rather substandard (i.e. the cheapest fucking model they could buy) replacement toilet that Dan had the *ahem* pleasure of helping install.

I have found it strange how many absolutely disturbingly disgusting public restrooms I have come across lately though, a trend which seems to have increased over the past couple years. I'm willing to entertain that it might largely be due to the fact that I spend more time in situations where public toilets are more prevalent; I spend a lot more time at school these days, and the one thing that students—male at least—at Columbus State seemingly haven't figured out yet are the vital skills of aiming and flushing. I'm not normally one to engage in the back and forth scrawling on stall walls that goes on in a place like that—all of which serves as further proof that it's not the internet that turns people into flaming asshats, it's anonymity—but after entering a stall to a seat almost entirely covered in multiple coats of urine in various stages of drying into a rank smelling varnish, I figured a few pointers were in order for the general populace. The only writing implement I had on me was a wax china marker which would clean up fairly easily, so I don't feel too bad for the maintenance crew, especially given the conditions of the rest of the area around it.

The situation is strangely geographically specific. The CTL seems to have the piss brigade and their incredibly myopic aim, while Nestor Hall seems to be the spawning ground of the flushing challenged incontinent monkeys that leave giant mounds of poo and tp as some primitive offering to Sterculius, the Roman God of Feces. Grand as their gestures of reverence may be, these primates are but mere acolytes to the wandering Priests of Poo and their chosen temple, the Grocery Store Bathroom. I'm not kidding here…I refuse to go into the bathroom at the Giant Eagle on High Street in Clintonville anymore after stopping there once on my way home to find a mound of crap piled on the back of the toilet near the plumbing connectors (this being one of those commercial style commodes with no tank, just piping where one would find a tank in a consumer variety crapper). I was actually momentarily stunned into pondering just how one would accidentally shit that far back without sitting on the pipe, as well as being bow-legged as an old cowhand. There was no way it could be done to my imagining, it therefore had to be a deliberate act. The question remained—why? Why, sweet merciful god why?

Of course, I'm still bemusing that question in regards to the crazy old homeless guy that provided one of the more interesting approaches to work I had while employed at the Smith Brothers Hardware Co. building. At the time, I was working an odd shift, 10am–7pm, which suited me well but meant I arrived much later than most of the other occupants, so I had to have a lot of this story filled in second hand, but it still amuses and bewilders me to this day.

On with the tale: on the day in question, I approached from the far lot to notice something amiss with the front door area (namely that one of the large floor to ceiling widows had been busted out), a lot of wet pavement, and a strange splotchy stain near the front door. As best as anyone can tell from the security tapes, which are the fullest record of the event in question, some random and obviously severely off his meds homeless guy had bashed in two large windows with a chunk of masonry block to gain access to the building, stomped off to the first floor public bathrooms, swiped some toilet paper, wandered back outside, where he promptly proceeded to drop trou on the front walkway, and lets loose with a load of fecal matter and rage that had apparently been building for quite some time. I still have two major questions that linger from this incident that unfortunately seem unlikely to ever be answered:

1. Why, if you are already in the bathroom, and don't plan on going much farther than the front door where there are security cameras, wouldn't you simply use the facilities provided before vacating the area?
2. Remember the stain on the concrete I mentioned? That was where the guy left his little present…what in god's green earth was this guy eating that his excratory waste was able to leave an indelible mark on set concrete? Is it some unique and unforseen property of bumwine that Science has yet to classify?

Alas, the world may never know…

Apparently they caught the guy some time later that day, still in possession of the liberated roll of bung-hole tissue—at least he was planning ahead for next time.

Labels: Columbus, random, school