Infuriated isn’t a strong enough word.
I walked into the gym and stopped off at the toilets for a quick tinkle before my workout. Little did I know, being an innocent bystander and all, I was about to walk in to find a woman assisting her boy child do a number two.
The kid was about 10 first of all, which makes me wonder why a grown child can’t poo without adult supervision. However, I guess it wouldn’t of bothered me so much, if the cubicle door was shut… which, you guess it… wasn’t. They had the audacity to publicise their ‘activities’. The smell was bad enough, but did they really have to throw in some visuals too? I didn’t pay for HD thanks.
I came to the gym with the intention to break a sweat on the elliptical, not watch a man-child break a sweat mid-shit.
So in an attempt to not let his bowl movements ruin my workout, I waited for a cubicle to free up, in silence. And finally, one does… The kid’s. Not only did the mother not FLUSH HER CHILD’S SHIT – but they also had the nerve to leave the toilets WITHOUT WASHING THEIR HANDS.
So in addition to being traumatized, coming face to face with the child’s not so chocolate-log, I was also left in a position where I was constantly relaying the words, ‘if I open the door to leave here, I’ll be practically touching it too.’
I was so sickened, I just left.
And so I thought I’d share that with you, as I exercise my lower half on the Leg Press with a full bladder and emotional distress. Hope you all enjoyed your day, because I sure as hell didn’t.