CACA WAS HERE!

Ok....I've waited long enough to tell this story....and the time has come.  Several years ago, I was sharing a huge three bedroom in Da Bronx with my good college buddy Tony Rodriguez and.......this other fellow. We'll call him....Eeew. Eeew had several hobbies that were different from mine.

 I like downloading music endlessly....Eeew likes keeping a very matted stuffed animal sheep with missing eyes in his sex drawer (I snoop, duh).

I like going to Starbucks to write....Eeew likes inviting (specifically) overweight goth ladies to the house so he can spank them with paddles and the most beautiful hairbrushes, like Anne Rice must use on her dolls, so that he could then do a photo shoot of their rosey cheeks to put up as his screensaver.

I like buying toilet paper....Eeew likes...........

Picture it....Saturday night...I get home very late from work to notice there is no toilet paper....no problem, me thinks. I will get up early for my weekend ritual of walking through the aisles of Target for hours, fantasy shopping. I will buy toilet paper. I go to bed....rise early....my date with Target happens....a trip to Starbucks to write a little. Maybe three hours later I get back home. I walk into my room which is directly next to the bathroom. I smell something funny. By funny I mean I smell SHIT!

The dog must've shit.....wait....no dog here.....huh....scratch head.....then it dawns on me that perhaps Eeew practiced one of his other favorite activities....not flushing. I walk into the bathroom.....the toilet lid is down.....I lift to catch the floating culprit.....AND. THERE. IS. NOTHING. THERE.

I start to feel like Neve Campbell in Scream except I don't stutter. I look every which way. I notice the shower curtain is closed. Weird. Usually open. Why would someone not be in there and close it on purpose....unless....is someone in there. I grab the toilet plunger and quickly draw back the curtain.

There was not someone.....but there was....something. Many somethings. In every different form.

What I saw.....was.....an artistic representation of a terrorist bombing using the medium of poo.

I mean....y'all....there was Pollock style splatter poo on the tile wall.....as if it shot out like an airbag.....which ran down the wall to mix with water to create a chocolate ice cream soup stream leading us to the drain.....where two newborns lay side by side like crack babies left on church steps.

WHO? How? WHO? Did an animal break in? Was there a frat party? or.....did Eeew have to go....saw that there was no T.P. and decide to enter the TUB instead of, I don't know, the TOILET...and leave his legacy on our tile wall in non permanent stinky ink....in lieu of WIPING!!!!

I didn't know what to do. I called Maria Elena.
"Call de police"
No...this is not their area of expertise
"You have to call somebody! Call his mother! tell her dat her son is a disgusting!"
I can't...Who does this?
"Nobody...Nobody doing dis...Animal do dis...Dis is no human!"
He's in his room....should I just clean it?
"No...tell him! Ju say...hey excuse me...you shit in tub? Dis is animal!"

I call Tony. I tell him. There is silence where we just hear each other blink for 2 minutes....followed by Tony saying..."I dont...I don't??..I...I....."
I know.

Folks I went and sat down in the living room for two hours in disbelief. Eeew rises and walks to the bathroom. I hear, "Oh Shit".  Yeah, literally, Eeew.

He cleans it....bathes, and goes off to meet the type a girl who carried a lunchbox as a purse in the 90's.

He doesn't say anything. I don't say anything......except to everyone I work with, everyone I know and love, and now to all of you.

I cleaned the tub again. Just in case. Shit happens.