My worst job was mopping public bathrooms. I worked retail warehouse but had to double as janitor. The women’s bathroom was inevitably the worst. It was as if the laws of modern society didn’t exist in there. Follow me on this journey of retail janitorial dread and loathing.
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I worked right next to the bathrooms and had to smell them all day as I handled defective product shipments. When they got bad enough we’d check them. I lived in the ghetto and worked in the slightly better ghetto so they were always bad. But in the darkest times, it was worse.
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Men of course have that river of pee in front of the urinals. It’s as if they walk up and don’t aim, they start peeing and hope to zero in on the target by feel alone. “Woah, too far left! Back! Back! Too far! Okay, you’re on target— and it’s done. Someone will clean that up.”
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That puddle grew every day until we’d have to mop it. If we didn’t, dudes went to the bathroom like those Vietnam photos of soldiers wading through the river with their rifles up in the air. Bros going to the bathroom hoping Charlie won’t snipe them from the tops of the stalls.
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That one I get.
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