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Years ago I worked at an "amusement center" that featured arcade games, mini golf, batting cages, go-karts and so forth. Generally, the only real disgusting part of my job was when I had to empty out garbage cans that leaked garbage juice everywhere, except for one time when I was called upon to go into the Men's Room to clean up some poop, as someone had pinched an entire loaf on the floor.
This wasn't that disturbing to me, as I'd been informed by people who had worked there longer that some people had drawn large, elaborate drawings on the walls with their leavings. Compared to that, strapping on a rubber glove and picking up the soft remains of corn dogs and pizza was pretty straight-forward. However, when I went to dispose of the log, I noticed that while the poop itself was a solid 2 feet from the bowl, the pooper managed to get a little smear of shit on the flush handle, which baffles me to this day. Did they wipe their ass on the handle? Did they decide that simply shitting on the floor was not fiendish enough?
My guess is that they got drunk, shit their pants, reached in to feel the shit, got shit on their hands, threw the turd on the floor, and the flushed the toilet because REASONS. When you shit on the floor, logic goes right out the window.
This is just your annual reminder that the average amusement park and/or state fair is a fecal death trap. It's like the perfect mixture of drooling children, redneck heroin addicts, and obese people with diarrhea. And you paid $70 to get into Six Flags. At least when you go to a bus station, the bus takes you away.
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Drew Magary writes for Deadspin and Gawker. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can also buy Drew's book, Someone Could Get Hurt, through his homepage.
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