[OreoGitorio]

Aight, i already told Daviid and a13x about this and briefly mentioned this in another thread over on ODFU & it peaked some curiosity so i decided to post about it.


A couple weeks ago... i think it was a Thursday night.... I was at work. To paint a brief mental picture, i work at the main corporate security control center desk sitting in a multi million dollar lobby in a three quarter of a BILLION dollar building. The number of people that walk through the lobby that make 6 or even 7 figures a year in anual sallary is staggering.

So it's about 9pm and i get a call on the intercom.

"Building Security"
"HI!!!!.................................................. Can i come in????"
I check the camera, see it's some girl by herself, wearing a t-shirt and a knee-length skirt... cute face but kinda cMan God...
"one second"
and i unlock the door from the security PC.

Now i'm sitting at my desk chatting it up w/ a couple co-workers. This girl comes down the hallway, goes through a set of glass doors in front of me & goes upstairs.... no biggie.

About twenty minutes later she comes back down, i see her walk out of the elevators about 100 feet away & start walking towards the glass doors that are about 20 feet in front of me...

My buddy Sergie is standing in front of me w/ his back turned chattin away and he's kinda blocking my view of her so i don't see waht she does as she's walkin towards me, but i notice she hasn't come through the glass doors yet... so i peek around him and I see her standing, back turned to us, looking down.

I look in the direction she's looking & see something on the ground.... looks like she dropped something... couldn't tell what... so i just kinda look at her while she stares at what's on the ground.

I think to myself "Well if ya dropped something, stop staring at it & pick up yer shit" right?

She's staring at it.... staring at it.... finally goes over, picks it up, picks up some more, picks up a little more, goes back to the elevators & disappears back upstairs.











End of story, right?

Nope...












bout 10 minutes later this other woman comes out of the elevators, passes through the glass doors in front of me, begins walking out the entrance to my right & says "Hey guys... um... i think you might wanna call the cleaning company or something cuz it smells really bad over there. I think a dog pooped or something."

Sergie & I kinda looked at eachother & were like "aight, thanks... have a good night"

We both talk it out or a second & make the same assumption, that she smelled the sewer outside the entrance at the far side of the lobby where they're doing some night time construction... but we decide to go check it out anyways before doing nothing about it.

So we walk through the glass doors in front of my desk and i see somethin on the ground about where that girl from earlier dropped whatever she dropped......

I take a closer look, see what it is, turn to my buddy Sergie & say "no way dude........................."
"What?"
"what the..............."
"WHAT?"
"No................................. NO WAY DUDE...................... dude it's a shit smear.... right where that girl dropped somethin!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"...... no fuckin way"
"omg"
"omg"
"wtf"
"WTF!!!"
"lol"
"rofl"
(ok, ok, so we didn't say "omg, wtf, lol & rofl" but you get the idea )
"Did she.......... did she SHIT HERSELF?"



... turns out, she did in fact shit herself... then picked up *most* of it... and brought it back upstairs with her into the elevators after TRACKING IT into THREE DIFFERENT ELEVATORS (i had some of them shut off w/ doors open in the lobby for CLEANING). We have video of her in the elevators holding it in her hands, looking at it, even SMELLING it. :big_puke:

Turns out, not only did she shit herself in the lobby, but apparently there was shit ALL OVER the women's bathroom up on the floor that she works in. In the sink, on the faucets, stalls, walls etc.... but that's still not the end of the story...

about 20 minutes - 1/2 an hour later I have the cleaning company cleaning up her shit (literally) and they're none too pleased about it.... and she comes back down... now she's wearing a DIFFERENT skirt and a friggin trench coat... she comes out of the elevator, sees the people cleaning up her doo-doo, turns around and just leans up against the wall w/ her head down, waiting for them to leave or whatever....

Finally she builds up the courage (intestinal fortitude maybe? ) and marches out the building, walking right past my buddy Sergie and myself... as she's walking out we see a brown smear on her left ankle

We know this girls name, where she works, who she works for... EVERYTHING. Her BOSS even knows about this incident as SHE was the one that found the mess upstairs in the bathroom!!! How this girl still has her job I have no idea....

good times, good times. That's my story & i'm stickin to it... Lobby brownies indeed

"If ya drop somethin..... PICK UP YER SHIT"

[Punjistick]

hahaha that's gross but wicked funny. My first thought as I was reading it, was that she went upstairs, got railed in the ass, then came down and shit herself in the lobby.

Here's a true story while we're on the topic. One of my friends borrowed his friends car to go on a date with this girl he just met. So he proceeds to bang this chick in her dumper, he pulls out and she shits all over him and the backseat of the monte carlo. Then he puked all over her and the backseat. My other friend was PISSED OFF to say the least.

[dhuze]

She sounds like a nice girl. Did You get her name?

[TheIglu]

If you already made it into the bathroom, why would you shit in the sink?

At least this girl is "different"!

[bump909]

scat party at pete's building!

[hessogood]

[Nikon]

reminds me of this story

long but so incredibly worth it

Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar,
indeed the only night of the week that it is served.

Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the
Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards.

It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to
those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated.

Perhaps bit too much, however. I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble.

There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing.

At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern.

Unfortunately, that was not to be.

After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...

I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall.

One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good shit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagional wirecutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit.

I went to the normal stall.

In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.

I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move."

Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time.

It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall.

Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.

In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end.

To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precidence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.

At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistancy of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initally hit the toilet seat.

Then I sat down.

Recall that when that event occured, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed.

OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting?

One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though.

Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly- opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles?

In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.

In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no f***ing toilet paper.

What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left.

At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to being the car around so we could bolt immediately.

Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers.

And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being.

She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned.

Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above.

At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom.

He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.

-Steve Crisp

[LuvDog]

Originally posted by OreoGaborio
... turns out, she did in fact shit herself... then picked up *most* of it... and brought it back upstairs with her into the elevators after TRACKING IT into THREE DIFFERENT ELEVATORS (i had some of them shut off w/ doors open in the lobby for CLEANING). We have video of her in the elevators holding it in her hands, looking at it, even SMELLING it. :big_puke:

post the video

[NinjaSwan]

dude... what a trip!!!

[bump909]

oh shit, luvdog brought up a good point.. post the vid. you got the clearance right? haha, that'd be AWESOME!!

[benVFR]

Pete's story is better...

Stories like that must make the job worth it?

[OreoGitorio]

Nikon, your story was so friggin nasty in the middle, but once i got past the "Hiroshima", the rest was a riot

[JeffL]

The story Will posted is easily 6-7 years old, but its still fucking hilarious.

[robogymnast]

Both of those stories are somewhat disturbing, but most definitely hilarious

[OreoGitorio]

been almost a year & it came up in conversation tonight at work... so I thought this deserved a bump

[daviid]

i will never forget this story ever and how pete could barely breath telling it to me

[a13x]

I missed Nikon's posted story the first time around, holy shit that's funny.

[beet]

Now thats just sick & nasty

[Stupidhawk007]

Sick, nasty and hilarious!

[Doc]

I have not laughed so hard in quite some time!

I almost shit myself!

[SarahLyndsey]

that is absolutely hilarious... disgusting... but funny

[KillBill]

When i was reading it i was thinking that she dropped her panties, not a doo-doo and she was looking for a "good time" and was trying to entice you into the elevator.

Too bad she pooped on the floor. I wonder if she shit tha bed??!!???

[KB]

This story never gets old.

KB

[beet]

One thing about ass no matter how pretty it is still shits & stinks.

[JeffL]

Originally Posted by rmbbikes

This story never gets old.

KB

It really never does.