This One Was NOT On Your Bucket List

CONTENT WARNING: Gross

One of the first jobs that I worked was in computer repair. The company has long since closed down, but reading a story here reminded me of my PC repair days. I thought of many happy memories and one customer story to share here later, but then… then I remembered the most horrible thing I have ever encountered.

When I was in high school, I worked at a small computer repair store in my hometown as a janitor, I have a few stories up on NAR from that time. When high school ended, I left the store in favor of college, but a couple of years later, I returned as a janitor under the promise that I would also learn computer repair. The store had shut down the old location it was at and moved to a built-out storage unit in an area we call the “Tech Park.”

The issue with this location was that it didn’t have a bathroom in it since it was a storage unit, and even though the storage facility had a bathroom open to us my boss was a rather large individual and he decided that the distance from the store to the main office was too far for him to walk.

So, he peed in cups, McDonald’s, Burger King, and any fast-food cup he could find lying around. When he couldn’t find a cup, he moved on to clear storage containers that we used normally for parts. The worst part is that he would then not remove them from the store when he did make the journey to the main office or left for the day. The p*** cups and p*** buckets were left to gather up under tables and on work surfaces outside of customer view. Occasionally, some of these buckets would be used for multiple p*** breaks. I didn’t touch them, even back then, I understood that I did not have the proper PPE to handle this task, but working around them was also difficult.

For some reason, I didn’t leave. Looking back, I don’t know why I stayed. Knowing what I know and being the person that I am now, if something like this were to happen again, I’d leave on the first day.

Then it came, the day I was expecting, I was told to help clean up all the p*** buckets.

I didn’t.

I didn’t say no, I didn’t argue, I just opted not to and silently continued my normal duties, cleaning the shop without knocking over a warm cup of week-old p*** and learning basic repair.

Finally, the owner’s daughter visited one day. She took one step into the back and blew up at her father, demanding to know if he had been forcing me to clean up the p*** buckets. She then put on… not enough PPE at all… and started pouring p*** containers into one large container. The smell was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced in my existence, and I was thankful that, when I offered to help, she not only refused because it was dangerous, but also kicked both of us out of the store.

I’m not sure what she did with what must have been eight gallons of p***, but when I got the text to come back, the store was clear. She and I worked together to clean the shop, and she added me on social media so I could keep her apprised of things before having a very serious talk with her father.

I left about two weeks later in pursuit of employment with another company and began work as a seasonal carnival employee. At the end of the carnival season, only a few months later, I drove back to the storage facility and found the store to be gone.

I loved working at the original store, and I will forever be thankful to the owner and his family for helping me enter the workforce while I was still a high school Junior, as well as for the mentorship and training I received under them… but… p*** buckets.