I spent four years as a janitor in the down times. This is no time to discuss the reason I fell, she’s gone now. Before that I was a successful microbiologist, working as a lecturer, researcher and consultant and I still am, really. The ‘doctor’ title is one I earned. It’s not linked to the job. Sometimes the spectre of microbiology work resurfaces but I’m not sure I care any more. Science is so thoroughly ruined by all the well publicised fakery out there I’d rather not be one. So now I’m a publisher. Fledgeling but getting the hang of it.
I worked as a janitor in a shop. The bottom of the pile, the Dalit of the retail world, despite being slightly better paid than most of the shelf stackers and till bleepers. It took them a year to find out I was a doctor. It took one of them two years to find out my name wasn’t Alan because I kept answering to it.
I learned a lot. I learned why shop-based food poisoning occurs. I learned how the very structure of a food shop makes such outbreaks close to inevitable. I’m not parting with that for free. I might drop bits here and there to get the right people interested but if you ever want a full report it’s going to cost. I also, subsequently, found out that nobody gives a shit. So I’ll probably never write that report.
Anyway. The shop had a small cafe and also a small toilet block. I wasn’t happy with the arrangement, the toilets should have been attached to the cafe not off into the food aisles but they rented the premises so couldn’t really do much about it. Management at least had the sense to surround the toilet entrance with greetings cards, wrapping paper and household goods like paper towels. So you didn’t come out with shitty hands and immediately paw the precooked meats. Management, in some areas, weren’t total idiots.
We Secret Ninja Cleaners cleaned those toilets once an hour. Does that sound excessive? Someone shitted up one of those toilets five minutes after I cleaned it. Once, at the end of a shift, I had refilled the paper towel holders and when Mopman took over, he said the paper towels in the gents had run out. Impossible. I put three packs in the dispenser only an hour earlier.
It turned out an OCD sufferer with handwashing problems had used all the paper towels and flushed them. The resulting blockage backed up all the toilets and required expert plumbing assistance to sort out – at massive cost.
There was a time when someone’s arse exploded in the disabled toilet. The consequence was indescribable. As someone who has spent his life dealing with intestinal contents I was the most qualified person within 30 miles to deal with this situation – but not on janitor pay. I refused.
They had to get in a professional shit-stirrer in a hazmat suit who demanded a signature for disposing of hazardous waste. I was right – and so was the assistant manager who would not let his staff touch this. If someone’s arse exploded like that then the spatter (pebbledash, there was a hell of a lot of it) might well be infected with something horrible and staff handling food for sale should never be anywhere near it.
The overall manager disagreed. He thought that if the (doctor of microbiology) janitor won’t touch it, his (largely school kids on pocketmoney) staff could easily deal with it. Fortunately he wasn’t on that time.
The toilets were not technically open to the public but the buggers used them anyway. You couldn’t stop them. How can you prove they weren’t planning to go to the cafe or load a trolley after they had a dump? There was one suited shit who’d come in, pick up a basket, and leave a few minutes later placing the empty basket back in the stack. He probably still does it. Not my problem now.
We didn’t have an entry code for the bogs. You didn’t have to buy anything to use them. So we got all kinds of weirdoes in there. I once found a drunk asleep in there and throught I had found my first Bog Body. Unforunately the chavvy cunt was alive. He was picked up by the police (they used to care about real offline crimes) a few shops away where he was being extra cunty.
Starbucks, after a single incident where a non-customer was refused the pee code, now have their bogs open to all and sundry. So they are full of junkies and dirty protestors. Who would expect that?
Now… Starbucks are virulently antismoking so I don’t go there anyway. This whole story has no relevance to me personally. I have no reason (apart from a bit of gloating) to delight in this news.
I see it more as a warning to other businesses who are planning to capitulate to the New Puritans.
They want to destroy capitalism and that’s you. Yeah. That’s you, that is.
And you silly fuckers are agreeing to it.
Lucozade, Ribena, Starbucks, bye bye you capitalist self righteous suicides.
We know a song about that, don’t we?