Clothing Store Hell: A Shitty Mystery


Carolanne 023


From Liss, July, 2008, 

 "My Mom used to work at a clothing store in a plaza, and they had this little secret door/cubby outside where they put their sale banners and whatnot.

So she went to open one morning and this overly dramatic girl started screaming, and my mom ignored her, because she was stupid and overly finally she went over to check on her and inside the secret door area there was shit everywhere, not just on the ground, but painted up and down the walls.

They stood there wondering how the fuck it got up there. Did the shitter have paint brushes? Did they rub their nasty butt up and down the walls? No way, it was too high up. So they waited for loss prevention to come in and unravel the shit mystery.

LP checks their cameras, and they see a maintenance woman casually doing her job, sweeping and cleaning after hours. Then suddenly she stops cleaning, looks around, pulls off her pants and underwear, and proceeds to shit in the secret doorway. She gets dressed then seems to realize what she had just done and decides she needs to get rid of the shit.

So she looks around again and goes and comes back with her leaf blower.

Ok, dumbass, shit is not leaves. So she leaf blowers her shit, I guess thinking it'll just fly away and everything will be cool..

Instead it goes up and down the wall and freakin picasso's brown period. The LP guys use such high quality video surveillance they were able to zoom in and get clear pictures of the evil shitter and even see the name of her company on her shirt. They called the company, who assured them there would be action taken.

Can you imagine getting fired for shitting up a wall? Lovely!



read more Retail Hell Shit stories here

 for more Clothing Hell tales go here












Bathroom Hell: A Visit From One of Mr. Hankey's Relatives



July, 2008:

RHUer Jason in Kentucky sent us a Customer shit story to end all shit stories. It didn't happen in a fitting room, but instead in a Men's room and he gives us all some sobering advice when we use public restrooms:

"One night I was at work at a big name Truck Stop about 2 years ago. I was the Shift Supervisor and had to get the place looking good for the company's founder's visit. I asked the maintenance man if he could go clean the bathrooms. He said no problem and went on his way.

About 5 minutes later, I hear my name on the intercom to come to the back hallway. I go back there and the maintenance man looked like he was gonna puke.

All he said was follow me. So we go in the men's bathroom and he points to the middle stall.

I open the door and I kid you not, there was a shit stick figure man on the big plastic toilet paper holder.

It had a round head, body, and arms and legs. It was nasty. As much as I hated to make him clean up the mess (and there was a hell of a mess), I had to.Shitfiga

The next night, he pages me again and I go back there.

Again he says follow me and we go to the men's room. In the middle stall there was another shit figure. This time it was a middle finger with detail on the plastic toilet paper holder.

I take it that truck drivers have a lot of time on there hands (and shit).

The moral of this story is, don't lay anything (cups, phones, etc) on the toilet paper dispenser. You never know what has been on there."




read more Shit Stories here

see and read about Bathroom Hell here







A Movie Theater Hell Traumatizes KittyKatzchen

Hello, all. Kitty Katzchen here after a long hiatus. I've posted a little on the Facebook page, but mostly I've been sort of AWOL. Bad Monster Blogger (If I'm still considered one, anyway.) -Bops own head-

Anyway, I have a real shitty story for you all today, but first I wanted to tell you all why I was gone for so long. In short, I had a devastating, and personal, medical emergency. It was about a month ago and I'm just starting to crawl out of my shell and back into the world. I'll have my own rant about the military ER at another time, but for now I want to go back in time to a place in my life that I have rarely mentioned: working at Marcike theater.


Carolanne freaked 2Marcike theater was my first, and second, job. I made a lot of good friends there and even found my first love. I was a doorperson (Which basically meant I cleaned the theaters, bathrooms, hallways, lobby, etc.) and was on one of my routine checks. Now, we had 4 bathrooms in our tiny theater: A three stall women's, a three stall men's, an 8 stall women's, and a one room men's. The first, third and fourth bathrooms were accessed directly from the lobby. The second, however, was sort of tucked away between theaters three and four. Even though it was small, it was still the men's main bathroom, since the other was only a one room/mostly handicapped one. Anyway, I was entering the men's room, now known as Hell, when I discovered a foul odor. This, actually, was not uncommon. No amount of bleach could get rid of the smell.

As I opened the first stall door in Hell, I was greeted by a sight that I, to this day, can not clear from my mind. Some nasty-ass Tun Tavern Tubesteak had shit on ALL THE SURFACES (Meme intentional)! It. Was. Everywhere. It was on the seat, bowl, AND back of the toilet. It was on the floor. It was on the stall walls and tile wall. It was splattered onto the floor of the next fucking stall. And then, as I was processing this literal shitstorm before me, I noticed something strange in the full, gag-inducing bowl. There was something white in there, and it sure as hell couldn't be the now destroyed porcelain.

Refusing to even imagine what it could be, I rushed from Hell like a dog was on my tail and practically slammed my way through the hallways and into the backroom of the concession stand. There, feeling safe around the cleaning supplies, I called my manager who was sitting upstairs.

Now, she was a generally good person, but had a hard time believing things she didn't see with her own eyes. So, I waited in my hidey-hole, ear to the door, and couldn't help a giggle when I heard her exclamation of "OH MY GOD!" followed by the clatter of heels as she tore the hell out of there.

To cut an already lengthy story short, she printed up a sign for us to hang on the door of Hell and had me recruit a coworker to help clean it. We held our breaths, periodically dashing out the door to get new air before rushing back to cleaning, and finally finished the job after half an hour of scrubbing and flushing. Afterwords, we were permitted our breaks, whereupon we chain smoked in wide-eyed horror while rocking back and forth in fetal position.

Oh, and the lovely surprise that was found in the toilet? A pair of XL tighty whities. Yes. They shat themselves, the entire bathroom, and caused irreparable damage to two of my five senses and then left their ruined undies hiding the in depths of the toilet instead of tossing them in the trash or, better yet, taking them fucking with them.

I understand accidents and all, but could this person really not have informed us of the issue? If they were embarrassed, could they not have pretended that they stumbled upon it? I swear, some people's kids.