PTTSSS - If you need a little laugh, go ahead and read it!
A while ago, I was sitting with a friend at breakfast, and she was telling me about her thrift store shopping, and how she had found these really cool chairs for $8.95 each at a local thrift shop. I said “really?” not convinced that was even possible. She pulled up some photos she had taken of the chairs on her phone. They were leather dining chairs, in super good condition, no rips, no stains, and there on the tag it said $8.95!
I was amazed. I am not a thrift store shopper, and the few times I have been in one it was to look for things that could be used for a Halloween costume. I asked her why she didn’t buy them, and she said she didn’t have a way to get them home. I mentioned that they would fit in my mini-van and we were off to the thrift store.
Now, this particular thrift store is pretty large, and it had its various sections pretty well defined: men’s clothes over there, women’s clothes over here, furniture to the right side, and housewares along the right wall. We made our way directly to the furniture, which for the most part was pretty old and in not so great condition. The chairs, the like new leather chairs for $8.95 were, of course, already gone!
While we were in there, I decided to look for some small trays and stands that I could use for a craft project, I found three silver plate type small trays, and three wooden plate holders for a total of $6.95, great! I was really excited to see my little project complete, so this was a great score. We walked around a little, when we both headed toward the left side of the building; men’s clothes, suits, jackets, and then along the wall was art. I wanted to look at the art they had, but as I headed toward the clothes, I was hit in the face with an awful smell. I mean, in my head I immediately thought that someone had taken a poop in a pair of men’s pants and hung them on the rack for sale! The stench was bad enough to send me in another direction. My friend, who also smelled the terrible smell, headed the opposite direction and toward the men’s suits. I went around the back, along the wall of art, and met up with her there, then proceeded out of that section, back to housewares for one more look for trays before getting in line to pay.
The line was surprisingly long! I was willing to stand there as long as took, to pay for my little craft project, so we waited. When I finally got up to the checkout counter, the woman helping me, turned to her co-worker and ask her if she knew what happened. I of course turned to look out at the facility and noticed a clean-up in men’s was currently taking place. I started to think…. no way…. no… and then she said… “someone pooped on the floor”. I was horrified. The co-worker said, “you mean their dog or baby pooped on the floor?” I stood listening in anticipation for the response, “no, an adult person pooped on the floor”. OMG, I was so close to witnessing that event, I shuddered. Thank goodness my senses sent me in another direction. Someone made an unwelcome donation, and I thought the old furniture was bad!
I paid for my stuff, and we headed out to the parking lot. I asked my friend if she heard what was going on in there, and I explained it to her. Just as we got to my van, I exclaimed, “oh, I hope I don’t have human feces on my shoes!” I was afraid to look.
We both began to examine our shoes. I was in my favorite pair of slip-on's. She was in her brand-new Converse sneakers. Just as I began to say, everything ok on my feet. She began to curse. Yes, her brand-new shoes had human excrement on them. BRAND NEW SHOES! I am a shoe person, so this was very painful for me. I handed her some napkins and she headed toward the grass. She cleaned up her shoe and we headed home. I have to say, I found it funny. It was one of those things you just never expect, regardless of the type of store you are in, that is just crazy. Crazy shit man. (pun intended)
Upon arriving home, we both reported that we HAD to take showers, she of course also had to wash her new shoes. Happily, her shoes came out beautiful and still new looking. We both now have Post Traumatic Thrift Store Shopping Syndrome, PTTSSS, which is a reminder: pttsss, hey, don’t shop there again!