Last week, somebody took a dump in one of the shower stalls at the Y.
A human. Pooped. In the public shower.
The discovery, of course, was followed by 5 minutes (I’m sure longer, I just left the locker room at that point) of Maria Callas walking around announcing to no one in particular, “Well, I mean, I understand having to pick up after a dog or a cow, but a PERSON?” And I don’t disagree. I just don’t know if it needs to be repeated multiple times to the same crowd.
So the turd sat there until poor Rosa showed up with her rubber gloves on, and Ms. Callas directed her to the offense and explained how she had considered picking it up with toilet paper, but had decided against that.
I never wear flip flops at the pool (I know, some people are horrified by that…I blame an entire childhood of walking around barefoot in gnarly locker rooms with no serious infections to show for it). I opted to shower at home that day.
My flip flops arrived in the mail yesterday.
P.S. Picture via here. What.
Rambulatory Ambulatory 
I have no words. Except to say that toilet restaurant originated in Taiwan and there is now one in Shanghai. I can’t bring myself to go. It’s too nasty.