10/10. Got a good giggle out of that.
Oh boy, do I have a story to share. My Friday can seriously only get better from here because I'm sure I just hit rock bottom. As I'm shutting down the computer and sorting my papers readying myself to go home for the week, I get a call from the receptionist downstairs telling me one of the residents had just accidentally locked themselves in my interview room. Cool, whatever, no big deal. I'll just pop down and open it up for him.
The very second I open the door, I get smacked in the face with the most wretched smell of **** I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing in my life. Champo went into the room, mistook it for a bathroom, and absolutely let rip all over the chair, table, floor and even the walls.
After a solid minute of dry retching, I held my breath and poked my head in to assess the damage and to check if he hurt himself at all. He's got dementia up to his teeth so in his head everything's A-OK. Soon as he sees me, he comes at me to shake my hand as is his regular behaviour. Except this time, his hand was covered in ****. Before I got a chance to react, champo here latches on to my shirt - poop-fisted and all.
NOPE
He lets go after what seemed like an eternity and I just bolt to the nearest bathroom to rip off my shirt. More than anything, I'm absolutely amazed at how much he unloaded. Dudes, it was ERR'WHERE. The only place he didn't hit was the ceiling but I'm sure that if he tried hard enough he would have reached it. Part of me is impressed with his effort...but most of me is grossed out to ****. Now I can't get the smell out of my nose and I have to stay back until the staff clean the room and then help them take all the soiled furniture to the loading dock.
Oh and I had to tear my shirt off and bin it. Now all I have on my back is a singlet. Its 9 degrees Celsius outside. Fridays. Are. Mad.