Don't stop believing that you won't shit yourself.So I make it to the hotel and I am walking as fast as possible down the corridor that leads to the locker room. I bust through the door and practically skip to my favorite stall...and it's occupied. I regained my composure and move over to the only other stall to see this:
Yes, that is a shit stained toilet seat, ladies and gentlemen. My pain subsides for about 20 seconds while I take in the situation. At 5:45am on a Sunday morning, there is someone shitting in the locker room. This has happened ZERO TIMES in the four years that I have worked at the hotel and I find it a cruel joke that it would happen on a day when my only other option is a shit-stained toilet, a urinal, and a sink (trust me, I considered all of my options). I decided I would wait patiently for whoever the hell is shitting to finish so I can ease my suffering. I tried to put on my suit for work, but the pain kicked it up 11 and I ran back into the bathroom to consider my options within a 10 second time-frame: shit on a shit-stained toilet, shit in the sink, or shit my pants.
Rewind seven hours...
According to eye-witness accounts, a piss-drunk man with a well-to-do father entered the hotel looking for a room. He had no reservation and we were almost sold out. My boss knew the man and his well-to-do father, so he gave the man a suite at a good rate. While the man was checking in, he shit his pants.
Just out of curiosity, do you guys have a pool?
Since we were so close to selling out and my boss was unwilling to lose the revenue, he allowed the man to check in even though about five of his six credit cards declined. Now, here's where things get a little odd. My boss claimed that he escorted the man to his suite where he ordered the man to take a shower with his clothes on. However, my boss also admitted that this man somehow walked all the way back to the employee locker room and sat down on the toilet to continue taking a shit. If you look closely at the toilet seat picture, you can see little spots of leg hair, so this story checks out. However, I don't know who the hell let a drunk man wander back to the employee only section of the hotel, let him sit down on a toilet, and then tells him to leave while letting the poop stains dry up and render a poop station completely useless and disgusting.
Fast forward seven hours...
So there I was staring at the poop-stained toilet wondering whether or not I would rather shit myself and attempt to relieve myself on this horrific thing. I had already ruled out pooping in the sink because I just knew the other guy in the bathroom would see me shitting in the sink on his way out and I would probably be in trouble. With about five seconds left on my internal poop-clock, I turned into MacGyver. I looked above some of the lockers and found two fairly clean towels. I grabbed them, delicately placed them on the toilet seat so that I would in no way be directly touching the poop, and then I did my business in complete disgust while the dried boogers on the walls silently judged me. I hadn't felt this bad in quite some time.
Sure enough, 30 seconds after I sat down, the guy in the other stall finished up and left. It was a great day.
Rewind seven hours...
According to eye-witness accounts, a piss-drunk man with a well-to-do father entered the hotel looking for a room. He had no reservation and we were almost sold out. My boss knew the man and his well-to-do father, so he gave the man a suite at a good rate. While the man was checking in, he shit his pants.
Just out of curiosity, do you guys have a pool?Since we were so close to selling out and my boss was unwilling to lose the revenue, he allowed the man to check in even though about five of his six credit cards declined. Now, here's where things get a little odd. My boss claimed that he escorted the man to his suite where he ordered the man to take a shower with his clothes on. However, my boss also admitted that this man somehow walked all the way back to the employee locker room and sat down on the toilet to continue taking a shit. If you look closely at the toilet seat picture, you can see little spots of leg hair, so this story checks out. However, I don't know who the hell let a drunk man wander back to the employee only section of the hotel, let him sit down on a toilet, and then tells him to leave while letting the poop stains dry up and render a poop station completely useless and disgusting.
Fast forward seven hours...
So there I was staring at the poop-stained toilet wondering whether or not I would rather shit myself and attempt to relieve myself on this horrific thing. I had already ruled out pooping in the sink because I just knew the other guy in the bathroom would see me shitting in the sink on his way out and I would probably be in trouble. With about five seconds left on my internal poop-clock, I turned into MacGyver. I looked above some of the lockers and found two fairly clean towels. I grabbed them, delicately placed them on the toilet seat so that I would in no way be directly touching the poop, and then I did my business in complete disgust while the dried boogers on the walls silently judged me. I hadn't felt this bad in quite some time.
Sure enough, 30 seconds after I sat down, the guy in the other stall finished up and left. It was a great day.
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