"Ummm, Can You Come Back Here?"

*Let me start off with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUCKA! to Sarah one of my favoritest people in the world.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.

I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.

On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.

Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."

Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."

So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.

"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."

Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.

I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.

The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.

It was shaped like a turd.