It has recently been brought to my attention that human shit seems to follow me.
Earlier this summer, I woke one sunny Saturday morning to find my wallet empty (as usual after a Friday night out), and headed to the Citibank ATM located conveniently down the block. It really was a truly glorious day, until I swiped my card for entry, pushed open the door, and was met with the most truly heinous odor I have ever encountered. It was like hot boxing with diarrhea. I quickly located the source of the problem: in front of the handicapped for the visually impaired ATM was a pile of human crap directly centered on an open newspaper. Nearby, a man stood holding a broom and dustpan, obviously a poor choice in cleaning supplies for this job.
The really sick part is that I still took out cash. Does that make me a true New Yorker yet?
If you've been reading my posts regularly, you know that I dealt with a lot of little kid poo this summe, but the real cake topper occurred Thursday night. I was out with Lauren and another friend Anna, and we stopped by the reliable Waverly Restaurant (for coffee ice cream, a grilled cheese, and a chicken salad sandwich) and I went to use the restroom. As soon as I opened the door, I noticed two human turds next to the the toilet. Right next to the toilet! I mean really, how does one miss?
We also have a mouse that has made our kitchen its bathroom. Hopefully the trend soon ends.
winner: bathrooms in the comfort of your own home
loser: my shattered confidence in the cleanliness of my local Citibank
auxiliary winner: our mouse, because he has succeeded in making us his own personal maids
Earlier this summer, I woke one sunny Saturday morning to find my wallet empty (as usual after a Friday night out), and headed to the Citibank ATM located conveniently down the block. It really was a truly glorious day, until I swiped my card for entry, pushed open the door, and was met with the most truly heinous odor I have ever encountered. It was like hot boxing with diarrhea. I quickly located the source of the problem: in front of the handicapped for the visually impaired ATM was a pile of human crap directly centered on an open newspaper. Nearby, a man stood holding a broom and dustpan, obviously a poor choice in cleaning supplies for this job.
The really sick part is that I still took out cash. Does that make me a true New Yorker yet?
If you've been reading my posts regularly, you know that I dealt with a lot of little kid poo this summe, but the real cake topper occurred Thursday night. I was out with Lauren and another friend Anna, and we stopped by the reliable Waverly Restaurant (for coffee ice cream, a grilled cheese, and a chicken salad sandwich) and I went to use the restroom. As soon as I opened the door, I noticed two human turds next to the the toilet. Right next to the toilet! I mean really, how does one miss?
We also have a mouse that has made our kitchen its bathroom. Hopefully the trend soon ends.
winner: bathrooms in the comfort of your own home
loser: my shattered confidence in the cleanliness of my local Citibank
auxiliary winner: our mouse, because he has succeeded in making us his own personal maids
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