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I worked in the porn store just shy of a year. I had dealt with perverts, freaks, thieves and the scummiest pieces of shit that had ever walked the earth, but my worst day had nothing to do with those people. (Yup, here comes another shitting yourself story.)
credit given to original author if known
So there I was stuck slinging porn on another hot & humid Saturday afternoon in the dead of summer. It wasn't bad enough that I had stayed up most of the night drinking Guinness and my head was pounding, my stomach was queasy and my intestines ached, but the Jizzmopper (I swear to God his name is Jack) hadn't shown up to clean the arcade. I was a little more than grumpy because I barely had any sleep and still managed to drag my ass into the porn store at 9am.
Where the fuck was he?
I had learned on several other occasions earlier in the summer, that if Jack does not show up, all the cum & urine that has been expelled onto the floor of the arcade booths, and then tracked out, will start to stink up the whole (un-airconditioned) building, and when you walk back there your shoes will get stuck. (Just like in a movie theater when someone behind you spills their soda and it has 2 hours to get sticky under your feet.) He'd better get here soon I thought, because one: I don't wanna have to get cum on my shoes again -I'm tired of hosing off and walking through the grass when I get home- and two: I needed to puke and take a shit and someone had to watch the store because there were customers scattered about the whole place.
So, while waiting, I started to do the monotonous count of the thousands of little lube bottles, stacks of filthy mags, and walls full of rows and rows of brightly colored rubber dildos, just to see how many were stolen the night before. When all of the sudden this gay guy who was in the arcade comes up to me. "You have to come back there with me and see this!" He exclaimed. I glared at him and muttered "I don't think so." And he tried again to get me to go back there with him and see what was back there. (I, besides being a girl working in a porn store that needed to take a monster shit & a good puke, don't trust anyone, he probably wanted to rape me.) "I think you'd better leave now." I told him.
He got pretty mad and left. It was fucking hot. I didn't care. I wanted Jack to hurry the hell up and get there. The fucking cum & urine smell was starting to permeate the whole store in the 90-something degree heat.
I finished up what I was doing and wondered if there really was something back there in the arcade. Might as well do a quick check of all the booths not being used, since fucking Jack still hadn't show up and my shift was over in 2 hours. I started to walk back there and -God Damn it!- my feet were sticking to the floor. One by one I checked the booths. Wet floor. Wet floor. Wet floor. Pile of something. (Oh GREAT I thought.) I stepped into the booth to get a closer look. Just clothes....Barbie logo kid clothes (charming)....ahhhh covered in diarrhea. (Sigh. What some people need to get off.)
Well, that was just about all my stomach needed that afternoon and I ran back towards the front of the store to puke in the garbage can. I didn't make it 5 steps, I puked in the hallway right on top of all the sticky tracks. I put out a wet floor sign and went back to the front of the store to wait for Jack. He could clean it as punishment for being fucking late.
As I sat there my intestines decided it was there turn to evacuate. Fuck you, I thought. You can wait. I needed to just be still so my head would stop pounding and my stomach would calm down. I started to sweat, not just a sticky glisten from a 90-something degree day, but pouring sweat. My bra & T-shirt became soaked in a couple minutes. I turned a fan on, towards my face. It didn't help much. My vision started to go all black. Fuck, I thought, I'm going to pass out if I don't take a shit...SOON.
We weren't allowed to use the bathroom with customers in the store, so I decided to get rid of everyone. I flipped off the power to all the arcade monitors and told all the customers in front of me the store was closed. I went in the big circle around the store telling everyone, "We're closed." "Get out." "Closed for 15 minutes." "We need to clean up." "Closed for lunch" (Most customers just left but a few wanted to argue.) The Arcade guys had just finished pulling up their pants and came out to see why they weren't getting their full dollar's worth out the arcade. "Out of order." I said. "Store's closed." "Go home."
I was starting to panic. My ass was doing to slow opening thing. FUCK. Yet still some people wanted to argue. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" I screamed (as a little Hershey's squirt came out into my pannies) I grabbed a couple guys by the arms and pushed them to the doors. The others followed quickly and I ran to the front of the store to double check everyone was out, and lock the door. (More Hershey's.) I ran back to the back door (more Hershey's) as the last guy was exiting and locked it behind him. No time to make it to the nice bathroom in the front, Ill go to the toilet in the janitor's closet, near the arcade.....by where I had puked.
Now my eyes were still kinda blacking out on me...but I felt relief knowing I was alone and now I could go shit and clean up my underwear in private. So with confidence I skipped toward the janitor's closet and leapt over the 'wet floor' sign. (Which someone had FUCKING MOVED!) The next thing I knew my foot slid through my puke. There was no time to balance, no way of putting my arm out in front of me to stop a fall. I fell on my ass, slid through puke and a trail of sticky cum & urine. I started to moan in disgust, then cry...then I started laughing still laying on the floor. I couldn't get it out of my head that this was like an adult slip & slide.
I guess I was still in OK spirits knowing I had time to clean up the outside of my pants with a rag or something. That's when I shit my pants.
I shut up real quick.
Ironically I had slid just a couple feet in front of the Janitor's closet door. If I would have just gotten up instead of laughing my underwear wouldn't have been full of curry sauce.
I got up and opened the door, finished shitting, puked again and realized there was no toilet paper. There was, however, a fresh brand new spaghetti mop. I unwrapped it and started to mop off the shit all over my ass. I ran out of room. So I started to cry again. I flushed the toilet, contemplated dunking it in the bowl, but instead dunked it in the back of the tank. (No way was I gonna stick it in the bowl-im OK being covered in my shit, but no one else's) I cleaned it off, and started wiping my ass and & legs again. It worked OK but I was wet.
I finished up and walked to the sink. I had gallons of soap (janitor's closet!) so I scrubbed my jeans AND pannies cleaner than when I had arrived at work. (And I washed my waist length hair and put it in a bun.) I decided to use my pannies to clean my ass & legs with soap, then cleaned them off again, then again. I put my jeans & pannies on wet and didn't even care. I was just relieved to have evacuated my bowels and stomach, and that this whole fucking mess was finally over.
I went and unlocked the doors and turned all the arcades back on. I looked at the clock..only 30 minutes till I could leave. Guess who the first person to walk through the door was. Porn customer? Nope. Fucking Jack.