[ TT ] [ RF ] You 've got 20 minutes left on your shift , and the manager asks you to clean the bathroom .

There I was, twenty minutes from the end of my shift, then the manager approached me. There was only one thing she said,'' The toilet upstairs needs to be cleaned, and you're going to be the one to do it.'' 
 
 Now, let me tell you something about the toilet upstairs; cleaning it was the manager's favorite form of punishment. There was always some abysmal mess waiting for whoever got the job, and this time it was handed to me. I wondered what I could have done to deserve this. I drew a blank. I decided to just get on with it. 
 
 As I approached the staircase on my way to the bathroom I could already smell it. The smell was absolutely rancid. It was as if something had died in the staircase. The smell could n't possibly have been coming from the bathroom. At the very least that's what I told myself in an attempt to keep at bay the panic that was quickly overtaking me. I continued up the staircase. 
 
 The closet full of cleaning supplies was right next to the bathroom. At least that part was convenient, but at this point the smell had started to get to me. I wondered if this was what being gassed was like. I grabbed the janitor's cart, and I wondered if other employees had to clean this bathroom because the janitor refused to clean it. I continued onward upon my noble journey. 
 
 Can I really do this? Am I just going to throw up when I open the door and add to the mess? There was nothing, nothing at all I could do to save myself from this task. If I did n't do it, then it would be passed on to me some other time. There was a puddle forming and oozing from beneath the door to the bathroom. I wondered how much of that greenish brown liquid there was on the inside of that door as I pushed it open. 
 
 It was an assault on every sense I'm aware of people having. The smell was so strong that I could taste it. I thought it was absolutely absurd. Nothing this putrid could possibly come out of a human being. There was no way that this situation was real. This had to be some sort of fucked up dream. I entered the most appalling room I have ever entered. 
 
 I decided to just get on with it again. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. I began to clean. 
 
 The mess was indescribable, and because of that it's kind of hard to describe. Just imagine the most disgusting thing that you can come up with, and then keep making it worse. Worse, and worse. 
 
 Eventually I was done, and I descended the staircase in triumph. I no longer worried what I might have done to attract the wrath of the manager. It was over, and that was that. Then I saw the manager, and she said to me,'' You know I was talking to Kevin, right? He was standing behind you when I said that.'' 
 
 And that's another day in my life. 
 

