Friday Firesmith – The Office Pooper

Bob was a guy everyone liked, a lot, and he was one of those people you could count on to help you out if you had a problem at work, or after work. He was polite and he was generous. But there were a half dozen people who were counting down the days until Bob retired. There were six people who suffered, mostly in silence, because Bob, for all his wonderful qualities, was the Office Pooper.

We knew, to the day, when Bob was going to retire. His health was declining and it was surprising he made it as long as he did, and there were a lot of people who came to his retirement party. Yet back several years ago, Bob went shopping for a doctor who would tell him what he wanted to hear. Bob had a weight problem. He went pudgy to portly to oh my dog dude when was the last time you saw your feet? He tried all variety of diets, but he couldn’t stay away from junk food. Finally, he found a doctor who told him he was perfectly fit, and there was no need for him to lose weight. No, really. He did. But Bob had a plan. He would eat like a pig and then take laxatives. He also ate constantly. So this meant three, sometimes four times a day, Bob would have massive bowel movements. Think Mount Etna filled with skunks.
When I was in the Army you got used to other people’s stink. You had no choice. In Basic Training, we had eight toilets, four sitting side by side facing the other four. There was no privacy or the expectation of such. You’d sit down beside the next guy and talk about the weather while plopping away. “Say, Smith, that sounded like quite a brick hitting the water!” “Why thank you, my wife sent cookies, I’ll give you a few later!” “Thanks!” But that was the military. You expect that sort of thing,

To make matter worse, my office has a direct door into the bathroom. There was also another door from the bathroom to another office. I blocked the door leading from my office into the bathroom because sometimes Bob would exit into my office, and it smelled like a cross between a chemical weapons attack and a pig farm. Bob, because at the heart of things, tried to be considerate, would hose the bathroom down with air freshener before he exited. He would leave the bathroom coughing and gasping, and the cloud that always followed him was a mix of mountain air breeze and an open-air latrine at a chili cook-off.

My three office mates and I would sometime bolt as soon as we heard the toilet flush, and I think it hurt Bob’s feelings the day I sealed off that door. It really hurt the feelings of the people in the other office, where the other door opened up into, but we sealed first. They would run for cover, too. The sound of a flushing toilet ran us all out, and you might even say we were flushed out.

But now, Bob is gone. We sent the lowest paid person in to clean the toilet with 100% pure bleach and sandpaper. We all will miss Bob’s quirky sense of humor and his tales of fishing. We will miss his laughter and his warm sense of compassion. But we will, all of us, breathe easier.

Take Care,
Mike

Mike writes regularly at his site:  The Hickory Head Hermit.
 
Opinions expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the management of this site.
 

14 thoughts on “Friday Firesmith – The Office Pooper”

  1. Awesome story. I’ve worked a few places where even though I didn’t sit near the bathroom, I had to walk past it entering and leaving the office. There have been instances where you would have to run past it to avoid the stench. I wonder if Worker’s Comp has a provision for ‘second hand stink’, and if not they should add one. It has to be harmful on some level, at least psychologically.

    • Steve, we thought about our options. We considered a plan. At the end of the day what could wet do? He was such a nice guy. On the outside.

  2. Had a big guy where I worked like that. The entrance had a super long hallway with a bathroom 3/4 of the way down. He came in one day waddling as fast as he could, but unfortunately, left deposits along they way. It was an early shift start at 5 am, so no one to clean up for a few hours. Seemed like days for the smell to go away.

    Big guy never recovered from the embarrassment and got a Dr. to approve medical disability. Never saw him again.

  3. What a crappy story, eh? I’m surprised at the comments, or lack thereof. Hi Mike.

    A couple weeks ago the bathroom exhaust fans quit over the holiday weekend. That first day back the bathrooms got progressively more humid and smelly. Early the next morning it smelled like an outhouse so I emailed Facilities about it. Turns out no one had told them, a couple hundred people just thought someone else would do it, I guess. Me too, but I’d seen some of the building workers using them and how could they not notice what everyone else did, right?. LOL, managers are those that sat closest to the stink!

    I get there very early, and it’s nice to be the one to turn on the lights for the day, or at least be the first to lower the seat on a cleaned throne. You know, before everyone shows up and their coffee kicks in!

    • This, Scoakat, is one of those topics that’s going to really get out of hand or have practically no comments, one or the other. I guess people aren’t going to talk about their own poopers.

  4. We used to have an office pooper. We called her “The Mad Shitter” Of course the building I worked in at the time had several offices in it, so the facilities were shared by all. The restroom was a large bank of stalls, pretty difficult to narrow down who the culprit actually was. But we could always tell when she’d been there.
    I work for the same company, but in a different building now. There’s still a mad shitter, There usually is. I don’t know exactly who the person is, I only know they do at least try to spray air freshener. But the smell of shitrus when you go into the bathroom gives it away.

  5. Not an office pooper story, but your piece brought to mind an incident which still sends our family into fits of laughter when it is brought up.
    Our daughter and son-in-law were living in Melbourne. Hubby and I had flown over for a weeks visit, and eaten out most nights, taking in Italian, Chinese, Greek and Mexican fare.

    Whether it was a combination of the rich cuisines, or just one, who knows? But we were wandering down a city street, looking for a lunch venue, when SIL announced he needed to go, and pronto to a bathroom. We had just passed a small corner park with one of those new fangled portable single stall toilets. We followed SIL while he rushed into what looked like a something from a space craft, and sat nearby on a wall waiting.

    Must mention, we used to tease the kids about how when they were apart they would text each other frequently. Sure enough, daughter’s phone pinged whilst we waited. It was SIL…”No paper”…I had a packet of those small travel tissues in my bag, so daughter rushed over to the door, out came a hand and grabbed them.

    A few minutes later…ping…”have you got anymore tissues?” She texted back, “ no don’t worry the skids will wash out” ….ping….”no good I have to go again”
    Hubby noticed a mini mart over the road, and rushed over to buy a roll of toilet tissue.
    By this time another man was waiting outside the convenience, then hubby ran up to the
    door with his purchase, telling the waiting man he was safer to find another bathroom, as
    the stench when the hand popped out to grasp it, was overwhelming.

    Finally SIL exited, a sheepish grin on his face, I had giggled so much I also needed to
    pee, but definitely not there. As we walked off, I did remind daughter to under no circumstances go near or touch his phone.

  6. Of all of the stories to read after consuming 2 bowls of Dutch (gurgle) Oven (blorp) Chili with extra onions…and…..Oh………Oh….. eek!

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