*Warning-for those who are unnerved by discussions dealing with bodily functions, do not read the following post. For those willing to read with repulsed fascination, CONTINUE!
While I haven't been in the working world for a long time (6-7 years at the most) I thought at this point I'd worked at enough fast food/warehouses/supermarkets/convenience stores to witness the worst customer etiquette has to offer. People pouring up Hennesy in the parking lot, customers holding crack pipes in the drive-thru window (while purchasing a Happy Meal), detailed dissertations on how wet lips are needed for good blowjobs in the checkout line--I've seen it, heard it and clutched the pearls at it all. But what happened today could stun even the most hardened of customer service associates.
The incident occured this morning during the weekend shift at my part-time gig. Basically my job is to sweep, mop, collect shopping carts and make sure the store is clean. Anyway, I'd just finished tidying up the break room when I heard two female employees complaining about an awful smell. Since they were nearby the women's restoom and I had already cleaned both bathrooms, I figured a customer was in there tearing the toilet a new one (no judgment!) and the odor would disappear after a few courtesy flushes. But to no avail.
I grabbed the dust mop and began my periodic sweep through the store when another associate on the phone stopped me. At first I thought he was asking where another Kevin, who worked in that section of the store was. I went out into the aisle to look for him, thinking he was putting up merchandise or something. But he was actually trying to page me.
"NO," he said, with a slight I-can't-believe-it-either grin on his face. "Somebody took a shit in the aisle!" I must've blacked out or spontaneously went deaf, because he had to say again before I took a look. There was no way that I heard correctly. I took a careful step out into the aisle and there it was: right near the washing machines sitting like an extra light brown Hershey Kiss was a pile of crap. And not just one pile: there was an entire happy trail of mini-Kisses leading down the aisle!
Other associates gathered around in a mutual WTF moment. As the manager mumbled phrases like "nasty ass people," with the vitriol of a pissed Sunday school teacher, they seemed to take a delusional detour, trying to convince themselves it was really dirt, mud or a product that spilled out. But one whiff knocked everyone back into horrible reality. As I turned to walk to get cleaning materials the manager yelled out "Are you going to get a broom?"
My first thought was "FUCK that SHIT! (literally and figuratively). Have the bastard that pooped it scoop it!" (Unbeknownest to me the offender was still in the bathroom at the time. Yes a grown-ass man was responsible for busting out brown betties in the middle of an aisle!). But I simply nodded and went to the supply closet. It is my job after all. With mop in hand and bearings firmly in check, I ignored the "Damn homie/It sucks to be you right now (more like shitty:)" looks from co-workers and handled business. As far as I know no other customers saw that shit. Otherwise it would've really hit the fan.