From The New York Shitty Inbox, Part II: Special Delivery

A person we’ll call “M” writes (in an email entitled “Park Slope Pooper”):

Hi Miss H,

As you noticed from my facebook status, I had a close-up shitty encounter in my building vestibule today. I thought you might appreciate the lowdown.

The initial sighting was upon leaving the apartment a little after noon. The vestibule is between two supposedly locked doors. The first door is between the street and the mailboxes and a couple of non-live work spaces (both of which are currently rented). And the second separates the vestibule from the stairway to the apartments within.

The outer door is malfunctioning. Again. Last time, I had a renewal credit card stolen and some happy thief charged themselves a few trinkets and some flashy new duds. The time before, a mail-order purchase never arrived, or more likely it was stolen. But this time, I got the prize.

Poop. A big, smelly blob of shit and a couple of shit-streaked paper towels strewn nearby, icing on the freakin’ cake.

The best thing about this is, there is no super or landlord onsite. Anything that happens on the weekend, you are, pardon the pun, SOL. If you want the poop cleaned up, you’re doing the cleaning. Unless you want step over a pile of feces all weekend.

I have several neighbors, but unless everyone stayed in their homes this morning, they must have seen, and just stepped over the offensive pile. Someone had sprayed a copious amount of lemon-scented air freshener in the hallway (it was needed) but no one had bothered to even contact the landlord about the incident prior to my doing so. Sadly, this “someone will take care of it” attitude is common in my building and my rapidly-changing neighborhood. Yea, someone else. Notes posted in the hall and repeated emails to each tenant instructing them to shut the “security” door firmly and make sure it is fastened properly, have fallen on deaf ears.

So, while holding my breath and with multiple layers of makeshift plastic bags as “gloves” protecting my hands, I cleaned up the disgusting human waste and poured disinfectant on the toilet-spot. But before I did so, I snapped these shots that I thought you would appreciate. Excuse the blurriness, but I was fighting off a stench that surpasses that of Newtown Creek after the rains.

Now that the Park Slope Pooper has found vestige in my vestibule, what can I anticipate finding tomorrow morning?

Feel free to post my sad tale, and please keep my identity/contact info confidential.

Happy Saturday!

Right back at ya, M!

Miss Heather


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