There are things a person can see with one’s eyes that cannot be unseen. Ever again. Like, there’s not enough bleach in the world with which to scrub my eyeballs.
Um.
This morning as I walked my daughter over to our neighbour-fox’s house to catch her ride to school, along the same short path we always use, I spied a man in the very sparse bushes leaning against the brick wall of a house. I wasn’t immediately alarmed – I’ve seen him before – but with a quick glance here and there, in a half second I realised the guy, half squatting, was busy taking a dump, and I’d just caught him mid-wipe.
*retches*
I cried, “Sir! Really?! Uch…” as we hurried past him. Ava Scarlett looked up at me, asking what had happened… I don’t think she even saw him, really. I said, “Nothing, let’s go, we’re late…” and just kept on walking.
After handing her over to my kind neighbour-fox and quickly telling her what I’d just seen, spelling out the word C-R-A-P so the kids wouldn’t be any the wiser, she asked me what I’d do next. I thought it best to catch up to him, and tell him to use the facilities at the community centre a few streets over next time. Yes, that’s what I’ll do, I thought. I bid my people farewell, and I walked back through the park, noticing his pile of loose stools in the grass. Diarreah.
*vomits in mouth*
And indeed, I did see him just up the street, sifting through each recycling box set at the curb, looking for valuable bottles and cans. He always has massive clear plastic bags hanging off each side of his bicycle. He looks to be well into his sixties, if not older. He doesn’t look like a homeless guy – his jacket is a bit soiled, as are his sneakers, but he wears a signet ring on his pinky finger, and he’s got on a shirt with buttons down the front. He’s got a round belly. He looks like someone’s grandpa.
I walked up to him, prepared for… I don’t even know what, but I braced myself just the same.
“Monsieur? S’il vous plait… that’s… disgusting, you know?!”
He looked me straight in the face with a sad look. “Je m’excuse… I could not wait…”
“Sir. Really… you can use Centre Greene just la…” I indicate the direction with my hand, waving him that-a-way, and shrug, letting my body go slack as my palms slap my thighs. “Mais, voyons donc!” (Translates as: Come on!)
“I’ve been sick. Diarreah… I couldn’t wait… I’m sorry.”
I had nothing to say. What could I say?! I looked back at him blankly, and then turned and walked away.
I knew if I didn’t say something to this man, I’d have regretted it all day. And I do have compassion for him. I mean, I suppose such a thing could happen to anyone – if you’re sick? You’re sick. Are you gonna crap your pants instead? He’s not a drug addict or a derelict, wayward sort of person. I think he collects bottles and cans to supplement his income. Hard times befall lots of people… including the elderly. He doesn’t look like the sort of person who doesn’t know any better, and I didn’t really want to embarrass him… but this isn’t a riddle-me-this situation of if a man takes a crap in the woods, and there’s no one there to smell is, did it really happen?
Hells to the YES it really happened! I know, because there’s a pile of human crap in the park where my kids play, right now. And I don’t mean in a secret spot, far from where they tread. Nay, they march directly into that area daily. Ack. Ack, I say!!
This is all very disturbing. I’m not even sure what to do now. Do I… do I get… a shovel or something?!
*shudders+retches+vomits+dies*
What would you do?!
My lord. Indeed how could a person NOT feel bad for the other? What a horrible mess that must have been… and so embarrassing for that poor man.
Someone once pushed really roughly past me to get off the bus, just in time to puke on the sidewalk. It could happen to anyone. But man…
I did clean it up. I didn’t know how to deal with public security without giving this guy’s whole description and stuff… I feel fairly certain it was accidental, and I wouldn’t want him harassed… so I just got some bags, quickly cleaned it up and tossed it into the trashcan.
And now I will drive the memory out of my head with a bottle of vodka. 😉
I’m sorry for your troubles, lady – that sounds awful to have to deal with and worry about. I hope your doctor can help you get sorted out!
I also doubt that he wanted to poop in the park. And when I say “park” I mean a tot park with a tiny slide and and a little set of monkey bars. It’s about the square footage of a row-house, like the kind we all live in around these parts. There’s no room for a port-a-potty here, and it’s not a wooded lot. Plus, there’s a much larger park one street over with public facilities, as well as the nearby community centre I mentioned. Le sigh. Mortifying for sure. And gross for the rest of us. He shouldn’t have left it there…
I don’t think he meant to do it though… really.
Really gross, that is. 🙁
I once had a man come into the library to clean himself up after he experienced a sudden and explosive incidence of diarrhea on the subway. He had crapped himself on the train, it was down the backs of his legs. Can you imagine? How mortifying? And then to have library staff approach him to tell him that leaving remnants of his waste in the sink was not okay?
Fully disgusting for us to have to rope off the men’s washroom and for our cleaners, who had to deal with it. Gross for me to have to approach a man who smelled less than lovely and talk about this really embarrassing, revolting thing. But for him? To have to stand there and tell me about it? Honestly, I felt really bad for him. I have suddenly had to vomit on a subway before (thankfully I had a bag in my backpack. A BAG. UGH.), and know how mortifying such a thing is.
To leave it there, though? Blech. I would l call the city or prepare to grab a shovel rather than leave it there, for sure, because yeah, that is awfully gross.
I’m a person who is has been dealing with sudden, frequent urges over the past 3 years. I am on the wait list to see a gastroenterologist, and I will admit — I have pooped in the woods due to my stomach issues (along with many businesses, port-a-johns, outhouses, etc). It is embarrassing, and at this point unexplained.
I really doubt he wanted to poop in the park. My husband has ulcerative colitis, and has similar issues. He carries a roll of TP and a shovel in his van (along with a change of underwear) just in case. Please remember that a portion of our population are dealing with bowel issues, illnesses that aren’t often seen or spoken about. I’m sure he was mortified to be caught, and even more so to have been shamed. I know I would have been.
And yes, 3 blocks over is great, but with myself, I’ve got around 2 minutes to find a facility. How do you expect him to make it? I’m sure if there was a port-a-john in the park he would have used it.
Why not contact the city and explain the situation and see if they will place one?
I wouldn’t say a thing to him directly. I would call the city and give them all the info including a description of who he is, etc
RIGHT??! Uch.
Yes, to be sick is an awful feeling. “Not making it to the toilet” has got to be a horrible worry to have… but still. OHMYGOD!
I think I should call the city too… ew. Commencing “Total Memory Erasing”. Gross.
Oh I do feel a tiny bit of compassion. Just teeny though.
As someone who has suffered the embarrassment of IBS (never out in public, although spent an entire flight to Vegas in the flight attendants jump seat to be close to the lavatory) I could only imagine the cramping and sweats that he was experiencing that forced him to drop his load right there…gawd.
I don’t know. If he was sick with the trots he should have stayed home.
I wouldn’t even know what to do. It infuriates me when I see dog poo on my blvd or near our mailbox. And that’s dog poo…that is supposed to go on the ground (but not stay there). People poo?…uch… In the park? …yes – vomits in mouth.
i would vomit…maybe call the city to clean it up? get a big shovel and shovel dirt over it? gah…my one and only wish is that it never happened…