This is a story that happened a couple months ago. I didn’t blog, because, hey, who wants to say they pooped in a box (and really, the funny part happens after that)? But after telling the story to my brother, he informed me that I could not continue hiding this story from the world. So… that being said… enter “Poop in a Box”.
So rewind, if you will… back to when I was meandering about the Bay Area, about the time Freespace was starting up, so first few days of July, 2013.
I was staying in a warehouse… one that was under construction from being a vacant warehouse, to what will be an off Mission St hostel, coming to you in the next year ish. We slept on mattresses strewn about the space. Construction abounded around us. No bathrooms were to be had in the building.
So I awoke, around 6 or 7 one morning, really. REALLY. Needing to poop. You know… not kinda needing to, not thinking you should… but “this SHIT, literally, needs to happen now”. Yah, TMI, whatever. Just wait for the funny. It is SOOO worth it.
I’m 5-6 blocks away from any establishment that might MAYBE be open at that time. And I do not have 5-6 blocks, without severe discomfort.
So I think, “What can I do? I’m in the middle of central SF, yet not near any place that is open with a bathroom”.
I run around the warehouse, not sure of what I might find, or why I’m even running around.
My eyes light upon a an empty detergent box.
And so yes, in my desperation, I shit in a box. Fortunately, my poop was healthy.
Now that the ICK is over, we can start getting to the funnies. And there are two of them:
Thought the urge to defecate was tremendous, the Loki in me wanted more than just release. So I dropped a dollar in the box, and shat right on it.. Remember that; it will finish and find you full of laughter after funny #2.
Pause for a moment. And remember, dollar or not. I just shat in a box. In a warehouse in central San Francisco. What, pray tell, do I now DO with this box containing a very snake like turd? (don’t forget. it’s sitting on a dollar bill. in a box.)
I know I’ll find a place to put it outside. Just the right place. One that, somehow, will not cause anyone who doesn’t deserve having to deal with POOP IN A BOX, having to (again. part of the reason I put the dollar in was for that. Along with social experimentation)?
So I walk outside. Carrying POOP IN A BOX. With a dollar under it.
Happily, I find the perfect alcove is part of the building I have been having this adventure in; but fortunately, is outside said building.
It’s dirty enough, it’s deep enough in, it stinks of pee and perhaps that is someone else’s turd I see in the corner? The perfect place for POOP IN A BOX.
So I leave it there, and head back up to the warehouse space.
20-30 minutes later, I’m out on the fire escape, taking pictures. I see some crackheadish looking person walking down the street, and have a feeling: “She’s going to look in the box”. I feel like it’s going to happen, and I think “I should just start video-ing this”.
EDITOR’S NOTE (also, SUSPENSE TIME ADDITION!): I have love/hate with taking pictures/video. I have a good eye for it, but I find that when you are looking through a lens other than you… you miss out on the BEING HERE NOW. granted, balance everywhere. Point is….
…I decided not to. My doubt that she actually would… my desire to be existing in the moment rather than capturing… The actual finding won’t be as cool as I think it should be… hell, laziness.
So I just watched…
….her walk up.
To my POOP IN A BOX.
And instantly jump back, screaming “OH MY GOD! THERE’S POOP IN THAT BOX!!! THERE’S POOP!!! IN. THAT. BOX!!!” etc and so forth… different combinations of “poop” “box” and ((paraphrasal)): SHIT BE IN THAT BOX!!
And don’t get me wrong, this was your standard white trash, could pick you out as a crackhead from a mile away (ie, you’ve seen some SHIT, girl….) kinda crackhead. Sores on the face and whatnot.
Ennywhoo… I could have/should have… video recorded that. I’d be a Youtube sensation if so. But I didn’t. So… that was funny #1.
Funny #2, we’ll be less verbose with:
Remember that George Washington? After the freakishly funny “THERE’S SHIT IN THAT BOX!!!” crackhead episode ended, and said crackhead ran away, I went inside for 15-20 minutes… then figured I should go check on the shit in the box, make sure the crackhead didn’t leave my turd on the street. Or see if maybe the dollar was still there or not.
I get down there… the entire box is gone.
Somebody really wanted that dollar… and yet was smart enough to take it to a place with the proper tools. They had taken my poop, and my box (and yes, the dollar). All of them. To separate at a later date, I assume. (no, it wasn’t trash men or any city worker/etc. it was in a pile of other garbage, and was specifically removed, while other stuff was not)
I figured out how to flush my Box Toilet, and my utilities are, apparently, a dollar a poop.
To be more concise: Some crackhead just took care of removing my shit in a box….
…for a (shit covered) dollar.
Not my proudest moment. But my god it was funny.