An Intentional Shitting

Recently this story was highlighted as part of Care.com’s Valentine’s Day Interview Series – you can read about it here. They only shared a blurb, so I am giving the whole enchilada. Actually, you might not want to eat while reading this. And yes, it really did happen – sigh.

My soon-to-be husband and I had big plans to go out and enjoy Valentine’s Day dinner together at one of our favorite restaurants in Dallas. I was living in Indiana at the time, and he was living in a hotel in Dallas. My last visit was six weeks earlier and I couldn’t wait to see him and the progress on the house we were having built.

In preparation for this evening I had purchased a fantastic outfit that accented all the right curves. I had spent an exorbitant amount of time on my hair and makeup to look as tempting as possible. I was pulling out all the stops for this dinner and planned to have him drooling by the end of it. (oh how the times have changed)

Prior to our romantic candlelight dinner we swung by the house, which was about three weeks from being complete. I walked around marveling at how much had changed since my last visit. My heels clicked on the freshly laid tile. I breathed in the smell of fresh paint. I stopped at each of the bedrooms thinking about which one would be the guest room, and which one might someday be a nursery. It would be hard to ruin a moment this magical.

And then it happened.

My soon-to-be called from the laundry room that he needed a bag. He didn’t sound happy. I was confused—why he would want a bag? So I walked to the laundry room to see what was up. When I entered, I saw him standing over a pile of shit in the corner.

“There is raccoon poop in here,” he said.

But then both of us, as if in synchrony, locked our eyes onto the crumpled up white paper next to the poop. Oh my God! A person had taken a shit in our laundry room!! And then wiped their ass and left the toilet paper and the crap behind!

Who does that? Who takes a dump in someone’s house and leaves it on the tile floor, with toilet paper and everything? There was a port-a-john set up right outside the house for the workers! And if nature had really called so quickly, why did this person have toilet paper on him? I came to the conclusion that this was an intentional shitting.

I was on fire. I began screaming in disgust, transforming myself from a lady into a raving lunatic with complete disregard of the effort I had made to look perfect for this evening.

My husband scooped up the poop with a piece of cardboard and threw it outside into the dumpster. He used a bottle of water from the car to wash his hands the best he could. It didn’t matter that it was 5:00 on a Saturday night; he called the builder to ream him out. I was in the kitchen near tears. I had invested so much time planning this evening, trying to create a fabulous romantic dinner. The vision of human shit was now permanently imprinted in my mind, eradicating any chance of a happily every after night. I flew 1,000 miles for this weekend to have it annihilated because some worker couldn’t take care of his business in the bathroom. This was NOT how I saw my Valentine’s Day going.

John got off the phone and tried to calm me down. The builder informed him that even if he were to put up a sign stating to use the provided bathroom the workers would take down the sign and shit on it out of spite. He apologized profusely but the damage was done. Our evening was ruined.

We never did make it to our romantic Valentine’s Day dinner after that. We ended up swinging through the Sonic drive-thru, getting burgers and going back to our hotel instead. Not quite the romantic candle-lit dinner I had hoped for.

This may be one of our first Shitastrophy’s.

IntentionalShitting

 

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Comments

  1. Holy shit!

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      Exactly.

  2. Joy says:

    Lawdy. Humans are so disgusting. Makes you wonder why the workers are THAT angry. I know some people in construction, they would never do that. Inside anyway.

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      I can only imagine they have some pent up anger – obviously at laundry rooms.

  3. Wow. Just wow. I remember how exciting it was when we would walk through our first home as it was being built. I would have lost my shit over that shit too.

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      Perfectly phrased – and yes I kinda went loco in the kitchen while hubs was scooping up the errant turd.

  4. Teri says:

    That stinks!! Literally and figuratively!!

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      Only me would have someone shit in their laundry room. Sigh.

  5. What the hell kind of business was this guy running?? He FULLY EXPECTS his employees to shit all over floors? Ugh.

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      This is whats wrong with people – they shit on the floor and it somehow becomes the normal – WTF is that?

  6. I agree with the comment above. If he knows his workers are jerks get new workers or maybe don’t be such an ass of a boss. Sorry but I would have been all over him like white on rice and the workers the next day. They would never forget having met me up close and in person..

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      I am gonna need your number for when I have future issues.

  7. With DNA testing, you might have been able to find out who the shitter was. I don’t know the law, but isn’t that vandalism or destruction of property or something?

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      Well technically we had not closed on the house yet, so it was still under the builder’s name – we had no claim to it. This was before the DNA world had come into being.

  8. W.T.F. People are so gross–such assholes. When I lived in my old house (in a much cheaper state so I could actually afford a gardener), I went outside after the gardener had left. And there was a huge puddle of steaming piss on the concrete stairs by the garage. I mean, had he made a 180, he could have peed in the bush. But he had to relieve himself on the stairs by my house. Gross. (Yes, I fired him.)

    • theshitastrophy.com says:

      eeewwwww! I guess he didn’t want to kill your bushes? Gross. I woulda fired him too – what is he a dog?