Poop

Propelled into action by the mandate to buy eleventy houses in 20 minutes, we have been hitting the streets hard looking for inventory. The county wants to concentrate on neighborhoods instead of flitting around the jurisdiction, buying houses scattered hither and yon. I have a preferred subdivision which is undergoing a lot of foreclosures, but is still pleasant, well-kept and has retained its value as much as could be expected under the circumstances. Three of us headed out last week to a house in the subdivision. On the way over, I announced to the group that unless the house had been gutted buy fire, we were going to buy it, so everyone needed to get their minds right.

The house was in worse shape that I expected. The front and back porches needed extensive work, along with the usual list of cosmetic fixes inside -- paint, fixtures, carpet, appliances. I walked from room to room snapping pictures. The electricity was off and the flash of the camera helps to illuminate dark rooms, particularly bathrooms which usually don't have the benefit of windows. I stopped in the doorway of a hall bathroom upstairs, checked it out and kept moving without taking a picture. The rest of the team, two men, stood in the bathroom door and snickered, "I'm surprised you didn't start yelling when you saw this."

"What?" I came back to the door.
"You didn't see that?" Joe pointed at a dark mass on top of the closed toilet seat.
"What?" I asked. "It's a dark rag left there by the work crew."
"Oh. OKAY." Joe grinned and walked away. "If that's what you want to believe."
"What is he talking about?" I thought and leaned in deeper in the doorway.

OH SWEET MOTHER CARRY ME HOME. It was POOP. Poop. Dried human poop. On top of the closed toilet, not inside. Why?! We're still putting an offer on the house, I'm just glad it was the last one of the day. I needed to have a glass of wine after that.