"That shit had my name written all over
it is what I heard one homeless man tell
another. I didn't pay much attention at first,
but then the two started really getting into
it. "Fuck you. It's mine," one said. The
other said, "You can get the guy's in the
next stall." He was referring to me. I began
to take my leak. Then the other guy said, "I
can hear him. He's only pissing. Let me
have it. You've got nothing to carry it
man with his dog next to their cart. They
zipped right past me. The one homeless
man who was holding the old man's shit in
a plastic Coca-Cola container with the top
cut off screamed, "Hey, old man, get away
from those carts!" The old man did not
budge. He just stood there surprised and a
bit confused. The homeless men
approached their carts. I watched, waiting
to see what was going to happen. Then
done, the old man put two and two
together and shouted, "What in God's
name are you doing with my shit? Is that
my shit in there?" The old man pointed to
the plastic container. The two homeless
men kept quiet. The old man was not
finished, though. Spit began to fly out of
his mouth as he talked. "Did you sons of
bitches scrape my crap up and out of that
toilet back there?!"
Some Strange Shit
by Mark Gonzales the old man said, "What
in," the man with the deep,
scratchier voice said. The man with the
nasally voice began to say something,
but I started to get nervous, so I didn't.
pay much attention. Instead, I
finished my piss, zipped up and was
out of there.
When I exited the public
toilet, I was kind of tripped
out, but mostly curious. I saw
the old man whom I presume
had taken the shit, about twelve feet
away from me. He was walking his
dog. His dog was pulling hard on
the collar. I could see the tension in
the leash. The dog was headed
towards the two homeless men's
carts. When they got there, the
dog started sniffing like
crazy. The old man
fluttered his left hand
before his nose and face, a
gesture that gives me the
impression that he just came
into contact with a foul smell.
I watched him move his
hand slowly from side to
side across his face. I
began to laugh. The old man
moved closer to the two men's
carts. Now with a curious look on
his face, he started to lift a cloth
that was draped over the carts,
hiding what was inside. The
old man lifted the cloth just
enough to look in. He had a
puzzled look on his face. He
backed away from the cart and yanked on
his dog's collar, but his dog did not want to
leave. He kept sniffing. The two homeless
men exited the restroom. They saw the old
the hell you got in your hand there?"
to the bum holding his shit. The bum
answered in that deep, scratchy voice,
"Don't you worry about it, you old fart." I
started to move closer so I could catch the
action. The old man crouched and tried to
see what was in the plastic street-rigged
container. I guessed from a combo of the
smell from their carts and from what he
saw and how the two burns rushed
into the toilet after he was
The old
man was
furious. He
yanked on
his dog's leash. The dog and his master
were now headed for a pay phone. "I'm
calling the cops!" When the old man was
far enough away, the two bums lifted off
the cloth that was
draped over their
carts. The one with
the scratchy voice
placed the plastic
container that was
holding the old
man's shit
into
his cart along with a lot of other plastic
containers that were holding human feces. I
thought it was very strange. I watched as
the two hurriedly carted their baskets of shit
through the small public park and onto a
street where they really began to hurry. I
was tripped out on how fast they were
going. I looked over to the phone booth. The
old man's dog was barking fiercely at him.
The old man was shouting into the phone. I
got the strange feeling that the dog was
confused with his master's behavior. The old
man screamed loudly into the receiver,
"Listen, lady, I have no idea why they stole
shit! I just know they got it.
my
Would you please send a
squad car here?" Now the old
man slammed the phone down
then stomped his foot. He
looked down at his dog
and said, "It's okay,
bay," and began to
pet his
THE SHIT STEALERS
dog. The whole thing began to be too much
for me. I sat down and watched as the old
man paced around while waiting for the
cops and trying to see if he could make out
which direction the two homeless men had
taken off in.
The police arrived and tried to calm the
old man down. The cops were an odd pair.
One was a short, Hispanic cop with a little
excess weight. The other was a tall, white
man. His hair was cut short-crew cut, flat
top, whatever you want to call it. His
uniform could barely contain his muscles.
He stood about 6'5" or 6'6". The tall, white
cop seemed to think it was funny, but the
short, Mexican cop was really
interested in what was going on.
After all, the old man's behavior
was calmly hysterical. The
white cop asked the old man
a question that I thought was
funny. He asked, "Now, how
can you be sure it was your
feces that these two men ran
off with?" The old man's face
turned redder and his
voice got louder. "Look,"
the old man said, "they
had two shopping
carts filled with
human shit. It
smelled horrific. I'm
not going to argue
with you, god-
damnit. I want you
to find them."
MAKE THEIR GETAWAY
The Mexican cop began to grin. "What are
they going to do with your shit anyway? It's
only waste. What do you care if they have it
or not?" The old man lowered his head and
was quiet. He was deeply bothered. From
where I was, I could tell by the way the cops
were treating him that they thought he was
nuts. I also had a feeling the old man was
about to cry, so I walked over to where the
cops and the old man and dog were. The
Mexican cop gave me a mean look as I
approached them and asked, "What can
we help you with?" At first I put my hands
up to not startle them. The old man looked
up and had tears in his eyes. I felt sad for
him. Then in a polite voice I said, "Excuse
me, officers, but I saw the two homeless men
the old man's talking about. I was in the
restroom taking a leak when I heard them
fighting over who would get the turd. The
old man's not lying. I saw them scoop it up
into an empty two-litre bottle." The old
man's voice rose. "See, I told you so." He
had one hand in a fist and the other
clenched to his dog's leash. It was quite
funny. The old man shouted into the smaller,
Mexican cop's face, spit flying, "I want you
guys to catch them! I want my shit back!" |
couldn't help but laugh. It reminded me of a
small boy throwing a temper tantrum
because his ball had gone down the gutter
into the sewer system, but only this was an
old man, and he was throwing a tantrum
because his shit (human feces) had not gone
down into the sewer system. The tall, white
сор o had had enough. I saw it in his face. He
became angry. "Alright," he
said to the old man, "that's
enough, for God's sake. It's
only crap." The cop looked
over to me with both his
hands open and fingers.
extended. He was
pleading. "Am I right?" he
asked me. I wasn't about
to disagree. "Yeah," I said,
"it was only crap." Then the
tall cop put both his hands to his
side. He looked cool now. He had
made his point. The old man was
just quiet. The tall cop added, "It's
not like you were planning on
having it bronzed or anything, were
you?" I could tell by the old man's eyes
he felt terrible, and he should have.
After all, it was his leftover turd that the
two bums had run off with, not the cops'.
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