I used to work in a well-known big box store as a cashier. Well, one day I was on register and ringing up customers as usual, when a woman came through my line. She kept all her purchases but wanted to put one item back-- a fish wrapped in its protective plastic. I didn't really want a dead fish chilling at my register with me, but what could I do? I took that fish from her and set it next to me until I could take it to customer service.
A little while later, I was relieved to go on lunch. I grabbed the fish and several other reshops (items customers decided not to buy that needed to be reshelved) and headed over to customer service. About ten paces away from my register, I suddenly felt a wet spot on my leg. Confused, I looked down... and was horrified. That plastic-sealed fish wasn't so sealed. It had leaked all over my pants!
With growing dread, I looked behind me. And, sure enough, it had leaked all the way from the register to where I was standing-- a veritable trail of fish goo. Luckily, another employee came by and helped me with the other reshops I had. Yet another employee took the fish to be disposed of. Meanwhile, I cleaned up the mess left behind.
But that still left one problem-- me. Or rather, my pants. They were still covered in fish goo. I tried to wipe it off, but the smell would not leave. My lunch was late today, so I wouldn't have too much day left to go, but the thought of smelling like fish the rest of the day was horrible.
Fortunately, a customer service manager (who had witnessed the whole thing and made sure I was okay) was willing to let me go home and change over my lunch break. I only lived about ten or fifteen minutes away from my job, so it was no big deal to run home, throw those pants (and the shirt for good measure) into the wash, and put on a fresh uniform. I ate lunch at home and got back to work with fifteen minutes to spare-- just enough time to finally relax.