[HopeydaFish]

Back when I worked in retail I was serving a very obese woman who was sweating profusely throughout my sales pitch. She seemed to be in some discomfort. She decided to purchase something from me and I lead her up to the sales desk to write up her order. About halfway through getting her personal information, she suddenly blurts out "WHERE'S THE WASHROOM?!?" and I point her in the direction of it.

She had to climb some stairs and go around a corner to find the washroom. She waddled as quickly as she could up the stairs, but by the time she was about halway up I could smell the distinctive scent of human feces. I was quite sure she'd [censored] herself going up the stairs.

A little while later she comes back down the stairs, and the feces smell isn't nearly as powerful as I was expecting. She paid me for her purchase and left quickly.

After she left I went upstairs to inspect the washroom in case she'd made a mess. What I saw will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.

The woman had obviously had explosive diarrhea -- and hadn't made it to the toilet before it came exploding out of her. She had sprayed diarrhea starting from just outside the bathroom door and then proceeded to coat almost every surface in the washroom with brown horror. She even managed to get a good amount of her nastiness onto the bathroom counter -- and into my favorite coffee mug. Her [censored]-soaked underwear were in the wastepaper basket beside the toilet.

My boss asked me to clean the washroom, but I told her that I would quit rather than have to do that. I told her to hire professional cleaners (the type who clean up after murders and such), but she was too cheap to do so. She ended up going into the washroom with some rubber gloves, some bleach, and some paper towels and doing it herself.