I had a poopy day at work today. Not a shitty day – as far as work days go, today was average. I helped a somber woman find dresses for a cruise in the Bahamas and a very petite woman find a dress for a rehearsal dinner, which would not be noteworthy except that she decided on a dress because her husband would love the leather look; naturally, I assumed her husband must dress like the gimp from Pulp Fiction.
No, my day was poopy. Something is really wrong with the building I work in because the sales floor is rancid. A few hours into my shift, I became aware of a putrid odor in the air. It smelled like a blend of baked chicken and dirty diapers. And for several minutes, I was horrified that it was me. I wondered if I had tracked dog poo into the store or maybe my anus was just leaking human sewage without me realizing it – it happens in episodes of “House” all the time. A patient just loses control of his bowels. It could happen! But the smell filled the whole store, even parts I wasn’t in, so I relaxed.
It turns out the pipes are leaking sewage. So the “House” scenario wasn’t totally off; it’s just that instead of human waste escaping from one man’s bowels, it’s escaping from the internal pipes of an entire building. NBD, right? Besides making everyone in the store slightly queasy, this repugnant scent brought up a fact about my job that I did not sign up for. Apparently, a week ago, there were TWO incidents of people defecating in the dressing rooms. One woman just evacuated her bowels and an unfortunate sales associate watched it happen. The customer was wearing pants and yet, somehow, a solid bowel movement traveled down her pant leg and right onto the floor. She then proceed to walk from the dressing room to the bathroom, leaving a trail behind her.
Retail is supposed to be a poop-free job! I had no idea what I was signing up for; not just unpleasant smells, but the potential of having to deal with adult feces. I do not get paid enough.
After Dinner Blog 
I’m an aged curmudgeonly cynic, but I’ve long thought Sartre was right. “Hell is other people.” Well, at least some of them, anyway. The upside is that some are heaven. Where there’s a Yin, there’s a Yang.
Thanks for classing up the place by getting philosophical. I think I generally think other people are hell, which is why I get lost in my own head and spend too much time alone and then stupidly wonder why I’m lonely. I’m definitely better adjusted when forced to socialize, which is why I’m grateful that my job forces me to interact with others. They’re usually heaven or at least purgatory rather than hell, save the occasional jag – it’s like any job I guess.