1781 Sinking.

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Poop in the sink & in the urinals… I always really hated that. The sink in particular because it’s clearly an aggressive move done to punish people in a store. I’m willing to believe that some people are backwards enough to think that a urinal is for poop too, but a sink is a sink everywhere.

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You can’t ruin beauty. No you just can’t. If we just had a little more beauty and a little less hate the world would be a mutch better place.

lol she’s gonna guard it with her life now, God have pity on the souls of those who won’t use the toilets properly under her watch

I am reminded of my friends’ story back when they worked for Meijer. One of the two decided to go clean the restrooms (either being told to or of his own volition, I don’t remember), only to find someone had used a hefty log as a crayon, making doodles all over the place and writing “HI!” in BIG letters on one of the walls, then leaving the turd on the sink with a sticky note saying “For you –>” pointing to the “crayon”. Now, my friends are known to exaggerate a wee bit, but I’ve worked as a janitor in a prior life, and I’ve been in that Meijer… I think I can agree to their claim.
And for the record, the friend who went into the bathroom/art studio sort of… sneaked out, told the other friend, and both immediately went on break because… well who cares, I can’t blame them.

You know, it has made me feel… I don’t know if better is the right word, but a little less exasperated to see all these stories of “writing” on the walls. Knowing that it isn’t just me this insanity happened to.

My apologies for this odd tale-
I remember working in a store, + someone asked me to get cleaning supplies + a mop, + clean up a dung-looking remnant, that had been discovered on the sales floor.
The remnant was found about three feet from the L.’s room door.
Really?…Three feet from the door? I try to be charitable, + think that this person was heading for the right room, but then ran out of time.
I feel fortunate that [some customer?] told us about the mess, rather than letting it be unexpectedly found by the staff. Now there’s a happy memory, for me to go to bed thinking about. O.o

I had one while I was working at Texaco where it was left just inside the door to the bathroom. The pristine toilet was four feet away, but they left it for someone to step on as they entered, like a scat landmine.

Any time a customer tried to convince me to “cut them a break” for booze or cigs, I’d remember that land mine and realize they didn’t care about what happened to me at all. I was an obstacle, nothing more.

This pair of strips brings me back to why I joined the army. I worked at a seafood restaurant in Tampa, right by Busch Gardens. I had just finished a dumpster run and had been chatting up a recruiter who frequented the place. Then one of the bartenders came along and told me a cleanup was needed in the ladies room. Whoo boy. The stall… It was like they aimed for everything but the bowl, and it was a shotgun blast. At the end of my shift I was in that recruiter’s office discussing what jobs I had aptitude for. No amount of the “it’s paying work” mindset prepares you for the terror that is “I can’t find the bowl but I really have to shit!”

My grandfather, while working part time at Circle K for extra money had a customer make the mess of the Bathroom. Fortunately this customer was… THE ONE! This customer actually asked for the cleaning supplies so they could CLEAN THEIR MESS

This kind of crap (pun intended) is what makes me, daily, realize that humans are nothing more than slightly evolved apes.

I once saw someone at Walmart crap into their own hand and fling it at a manager.

Clear indication that at least that person was not very far descended from monkeys (remember to always keep your distance when visiting the monkey house in the zoo).

Reminds me of when Noah Antwiler (aka The Spoony One) talked about the time he found a pizza in the restroom of a store he worked in. Like, a whole uneaten pizza, one month old and perfectly preserved. Look up “toliet pizza” on youtube for a hilarious and disgusting story.

I thought the last comic was the newest comic, so I already posted this before I realized my browser dropped me a comic backwards in time:

It’s really about respect and personal consideration.

I worked at a popular pizza place for 3 years in high school in the summer. It was my second job, but it was my favorite job. The first year, we had maybe two real bathroom horror stories, and that was because the customers who created said mess were already inconsiderate. However, most of the time, everyone was nice and the restroom was clean. Everyone loved eating there, too, and always had nice things to say about the food and the service.

My last year there, the quality of food had gone downhill, and since management squeezed every penny out of the place, they stopped hiring decent people to work there. We started having more complaints than praise. So the bathroom incidents went up drastically. Crap all over the stalls, pee on the floor, clogged toilets/urinals, broken mirrors, broken sinks, graffiti, paper towels EVERYWHERE …

Which has always been an indication of how people feel about a store and it’s service. If I go in the bathroom and its trashed, there’s probably a huge problem with the store’s image and the people who work there (although not all employees may be the problem, it may be management who makes the people who work there not care).

I have worked in retail, both at Radio Shark and at a more upscale, family-owned electronics place (still there 35 years later, they sell fire and police radios and equipment, lights, scanners, car and home stereo). Being the junior guy at both places, I got cr@pper duty at both. No horror stories to relate, but one humorous incident.

The building the Radio Shark was in had previously been a number different restaurants in its prior lives. A couple of sit-down seafood places and at least once, a steak house. Women’s rooms are always larger in such places (at least if the architect is married) but Le Shack didn’t attract many women, and that store had no females on staff for its entire existence. The first manager decided to swap the restrooms. The new Ladies’ had the stand-and-deliver replaced with a proper sit-down, but the tiles remained blue and the Gents stayed pink.

Part of the reason the lavatories remained pristine was their location. Behind a door at the back of the store clearly marked EMPLOYEES ONLY, the bathrooms were off to the left, our stockroom to the right, and the Manager’s office straight back. The hallway took a right turn past the stockroom, and the Computer Center’s tech had his workshop in there. Customers never knew of our hidden ‘powder rooms’.

Beneath a hook on the door of one of the stalls in the pink room, someone left this message in permanent black Magic Marker:

WOULD THE OWNER OF THE ITEM LEFT HERE PLEASE SEE THE COWBOY

We never knew what the ‘item’ was or who the Cowboy might be, but that never kept us from speculating.

I empathize with Jo 100%. After my retail days I went into the mental health field, going into people’s homes and working. I remember seeing how messy customers left the store and often wondered if their houses are just as bad. They’re worse.

I thankfully never encountered *that* while working retail. But with as stupid and lazy as some of the temps I have to deal with now are, I wouldn’t be surprised to come accross it.

I know this was posted a while ago,but I just gotta get this out…

I worked in a pet store. Accidents happen, especially with pets. So there’s little cleanup stations around the store. This lady was walking a little dachshund, winer dog. I had JUST turned around, saw her, her dog, and some poop. So I handed her a little cleanup bag to pick it up, trying to help her out. I have a dog, and I can’t stand it when people don’t clean up after their dogs. It’s disgusting and you’re a bad person if you don’t at least try. Period. I’ve lost poops in the dark (it’s late, I’m drunk, in an apartment so no letting them out into the yard), but I’ll go out the next day to find it. The lady with the dachshund refused the bag, saying “It was here when I got here.” Lady, that log was still hot when I picked it up. Fuck you.

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