Imagine someone mixed mustard and chocolate pudding together and then smeared it everywhere, then mixed that into syrup and poured it into every drain they could find clogging it up.

I once worked at a grocery store as a “customer courtesy clerk,” a fancy way to say, bagger. One of the jobs is cleaning the parking lot, the produce zone, and the bathrooms. Late one night after closing, I was unfortunate and had to do the bathrooms. The women’s restroom was its usual gross self, but the men’s room, holy Jesus. The sinks had diarrhea or puke in them, they were clogged and full to the brim, the urinals, the toilets, everything was clogged and full of or covered in shit. The shit was up the walls and on the mirrors. I had never seen such a thing, it was enough where I would have puked had the toilet not been full of someone else’s shit. I did my job by going through three clean mops and a couple of gallons of bleach. I transferred out of that job quickly after.

Oh yeah I worked in fast food back in the day, long time ago actually. We had a cereal s*** smearer. Randomly once a week usually, sometimes twice, sometimes not for a week, The women’s bathroom would get hit. Up the walls on the porcelain on the handles and the cracks and crevices and the grout and the floor on the mirror. The bathroom doors locked. Half the times when it happened a customer would come out and tell us, half the time it was one of the employees who would find it. This went on for what seemed like years but I suspect it was probably just a matter of a couple of months.

We were all good sports about it different employees who could handle the horror would help clean it. The managers did it as often as they could we just spread around the pain.

One fateful day, The dining room was busy but not too busy One of the employees went on break, the bathroom was locked. Well it was just about the right time frame post lunch, where everyone cleared out almost at the same time. The employee’s entire lunch break went by and The bathroom remained locked.

We called the manager over she sat in that side of the dining room trying to figure out whether she was going to knock on the door and ask if the person needed help or just unlock the door and go in and do a wellness check.

All of a sudden one of our very long time customers emerged from the bathroom. We affectionately referred to her as crazy cat lady. She stunk of ammonia so badly that you could clean the windows in the dining room without any Windex. She was always nice and polite but you just couldn’t sit within 10 ft of her.

When she walked out she saw two employees and a manager kind of staring that way got extremely flustered and started to say that bathroom was horrible. But we knew she had been in there for over 30 minutes. She was banned and we never saw her again.

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Bathrooms are nothing compared to dealing with the shit that comes out the customers mouths. They will eat food in front of you, make up some lame excuse to complain, and then walk out without paying. Nothing is more horrible than some fucking Karen deciding that they’re paying a few pennies too many.

In the past I worked with severely mentally ill folks, and every so often you’d meet one who had a creative streak expressed with fecal “paints”. I’ve also worked with folks with big, years-long drug addictions, and “explosive diarrhea out of nowhere” doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Just walk away. In the “old” days we had to clean up stuff like that, but a decade or so ago they started requiring real hazmat response to anything that was wet - blood, excrement, vomit, indeterminate, etc. No one without medical quality gloves, face shield, and more should be interacting with anyone else’s “stuff”. Like I was taught in my last blood-born pathogens class: If it’s wet and it’s not yours, don’t touch it.