Monday, September 14, 2015

Stairwell Surprise

A few years ago my husband and I finally went on our first kid-free overnight. This was no small feat considering I had five kids 2-8. My husband’s employer sent us to the Family Life’s Weekend to Remember Marriage Getaway. My in-laws came to watch the kids Friday, and we took off.

We had planned to eat on the way to our hotel but we got stuck in traffic and ended up going straight to the hotel and headed to the welcome session. I was starving to death by the time it ended at 10 so we went out to eat.

Back at the hotel, I was lying peacefully in bed when I spotted something between our pillows. It was a fucking gnarly long toenail clipping, meaning the sheets were never changed! I freaked out and told my husband, who was nearly sleeping, that we had to get the sheets changed or request another room, but he told me it was too late, to go to sleep. Frustrated at his non-concern, I reluctantly agreed. I assumed that was the grossest thing I would encounter that weekend. Boy was I wrong, so very very wrong.

The next night was date night. I was looking forward to getting all gussied up and going out! After the last session there were throngs of people gathered at the elevators on the 3rd floor. I was excited and impatient so I came up with the brilliant idea to take the stairs. I begged my husband to take the stairs with me. He refused. I was too energetic to just wait around. I told him I would race him to the top and meet at the room. It was only 10 flights up. How bad could it be? I was yet to find out just how bad it actually was.

I charged up the first two flights of stairs, determined to beat him. By this time my calves were burning! How out of shape was I? I gave myself a pep-talk. I could do this! I got to the top of flight seven, completely out of breath. That is when my nostrils detected an awful stench. I had six flights to go. I could do this! I didn’t want to go down and sheepishly face my still waiting husband.

I kept booking it up those stairs, the fumes getting stronger with every step! What is that godawful smell? It became more noxious the higher I went, by flight nine my eyes were watering! What the ever loving hell is that smell? By now I was more curious to find the culprit than I was determined to make it to the room. I continued, the entire time looking around for the cause of the nastiest thing I had ever smelled. It was too late to give up now!

Flight 11 is where I came upon it, the image that left me forever changed! It was a paper coffee cup full of human poop! I SHIT you not! It was a literal HOLY CRAP moment! I gasped, gagged and ran. I thought getting away would lessen the smell. WRONG! The higher I went the worse it got, not subsiding as I assumed it would. I was running as if for my very life. I charged out of the stairwell door onto our floor. I made it! VICTORY was mine, but at what cost? The odor persisted, I swear my body absorbed the smell of someone else’s shit!

I got to the room before my husband, and sat, dazed, paralyzed at what had just occurred. I was too stunned to even gloat that I beat him! The story really amused him! At least someone benefited from my assault.  

I got beautiful, we went out, but I never really got what happened out of my mind the entire night!

A few questions linger in my mind about the incident to this day.
  • Did the coffee just hit the perpetrator suddenly at which point he guzzled the coffee so that he had a receptacle to shit into?
  • Did he wonder if it would be better to just poop his pants?
  • How does this idea of shitting into a coffee cup and leaving it in the stairwell even occur to an individual?
  • Did he think maybe it would have been nice to properly dispose of this steaming cup-o-poop?
  • What would he have done if someone had come upon him mid-poop?

So many questions, so few answers. The biggest being WHY ME?

Have you ever come upon something disgusting you were not expecting?