Tweet
So I just worked an almost 12 hour day because of dingus who didn't show up.
Not only that but here we are. This deserves its own thread because this is just the piece de resistance to this whole saga.
The DIAPERS IN THE SANITARY NAPKIN BOX SAGA. THIS IS IT GUYS.
THIS IS IT BECAUSE NOW THERE IS NO SANITARY NAPKIN BOX BECAUSE I RIPPED IT OFF THE WALL AND REPLACED IT WITH A TRASHCAN IN THE STALL. NOW YOU CAN THROW YOUR FUCKING DIAPERS IN THE GODDAMN FUCKING TRASHCAN.
Why did you do this Gaki? Why would you do such a thing?
I am about to tell you guys why. I'm about to TELL THE WORLD WHY I DIED INSIDE TODAY.
Ahem. *stretches* There I was, minding my own business. A woman comes up and says, "I hate to tell you this but someone left a present for you in the handicapped stall. There's just...I mean....it's on the seat and the floor. It wasn't me, I promise, but I thought I ought to let you know. I'm really sorry, sweetie."
I put my face in my hands at said point and said, "I hate my life."
I wander into the stall and there it is. On the seat and clearly on the floor in just one smear. I managed to clean those up (they partially were dried because nobody bothered to say anything before the nice lady). Then I see it. BEHOLD. Sticking out of the sanitary box is a white thing. Not just a diaper ladies and gents but an ADULT diaper. This...will not end well. The diaper was not stuffed into the box's bag but was stuffed in there like all the other diapers are usually stuffed in there, just smashing the bag down so it'll kinda fit.
I pull in the trashcan to empty it and open it up and scream twice: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDIIIIING MEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?"
There is shit smeared alllllll in that box.
All in it. All in it. All...in it.
So. I ripped the box clear off the wall, dump the contents into the trashcan, tie up the bag, put a new one in it, and proceed to STOMP my way through the store and out the front door while yelling at my CW "I'M SO DONE, I'M SOOOOOO DOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNE!!!!!" I go outside, throw the trashcan down and throw the box as hard as I can against the sidewalk and then I stomp back into the store, make quite a spectacle of myself by randomly screaming and washing my hands at the same time, and then I go outside again, stomp around and make a strange half-scream half-anguished-moan.
My CW proceeds to ask me if I need a cigarette. I scream that I do but I don't actually smoke one because I don't smoke.
I then walk behind the counter and lay down on the floor for about two minutes. Only one customer asks my other CW if I'm okay.
I'm fine. Just fine. Because I put an extra trashcan in that fucking stall and if we put the box back in there (I soaked it in antibacterial and it's currently still sitting outside.) I'm keeping that trashcan in there and labeling it: "DIAPERS, YOU FUCKING SHITFACES."
I spent all my drinking money. My life. My life right now guys. 11-something hours and there is no more sanitary box.
(Karma arrived in due time of course. The old woman I think is responsible left her debit card at the store. How many bets says she'll never come pick it up?)
Not only that but here we are. This deserves its own thread because this is just the piece de resistance to this whole saga.
The DIAPERS IN THE SANITARY NAPKIN BOX SAGA. THIS IS IT GUYS.
THIS IS IT BECAUSE NOW THERE IS NO SANITARY NAPKIN BOX BECAUSE I RIPPED IT OFF THE WALL AND REPLACED IT WITH A TRASHCAN IN THE STALL. NOW YOU CAN THROW YOUR FUCKING DIAPERS IN THE GODDAMN FUCKING TRASHCAN.
Why did you do this Gaki? Why would you do such a thing?
I am about to tell you guys why. I'm about to TELL THE WORLD WHY I DIED INSIDE TODAY.
Ahem. *stretches* There I was, minding my own business. A woman comes up and says, "I hate to tell you this but someone left a present for you in the handicapped stall. There's just...I mean....it's on the seat and the floor. It wasn't me, I promise, but I thought I ought to let you know. I'm really sorry, sweetie."
I put my face in my hands at said point and said, "I hate my life."
I wander into the stall and there it is. On the seat and clearly on the floor in just one smear. I managed to clean those up (they partially were dried because nobody bothered to say anything before the nice lady). Then I see it. BEHOLD. Sticking out of the sanitary box is a white thing. Not just a diaper ladies and gents but an ADULT diaper. This...will not end well. The diaper was not stuffed into the box's bag but was stuffed in there like all the other diapers are usually stuffed in there, just smashing the bag down so it'll kinda fit.
I pull in the trashcan to empty it and open it up and scream twice: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDIIIIING MEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?"
There is shit smeared alllllll in that box.
All in it. All in it. All...in it.
So. I ripped the box clear off the wall, dump the contents into the trashcan, tie up the bag, put a new one in it, and proceed to STOMP my way through the store and out the front door while yelling at my CW "I'M SO DONE, I'M SOOOOOO DOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNE!!!!!" I go outside, throw the trashcan down and throw the box as hard as I can against the sidewalk and then I stomp back into the store, make quite a spectacle of myself by randomly screaming and washing my hands at the same time, and then I go outside again, stomp around and make a strange half-scream half-anguished-moan.
My CW proceeds to ask me if I need a cigarette. I scream that I do but I don't actually smoke one because I don't smoke.
I then walk behind the counter and lay down on the floor for about two minutes. Only one customer asks my other CW if I'm okay.
I'm fine. Just fine. Because I put an extra trashcan in that fucking stall and if we put the box back in there (I soaked it in antibacterial and it's currently still sitting outside.) I'm keeping that trashcan in there and labeling it: "DIAPERS, YOU FUCKING SHITFACES."
I spent all my drinking money. My life. My life right now guys. 11-something hours and there is no more sanitary box.
(Karma arrived in due time of course. The old woman I think is responsible left her debit card at the store. How many bets says she'll never come pick it up?)
Comment