Sense of Smell

It's funny the way our brains work. Especially when it comes to our senses. I opened the door to my building yesterday coming into work and I'm dropkicked by this foul smell. It smelled like a sumo wrestler had taken a dump on a burning tire! I could hardly breathe without gagging and I swear my eyes started watering. I made my way through the lobby to the elevator bank with my sleeve over my mouth and nose trying to only smell my Downy freshness, but the smell of poo permeated. Automatically I'm thinking, "Today is going to be a shiddy day! Somehow this smell is alerting me of the day to come." Finally one of the elevators of death showed up after me punching the button like a madman (which doesn't help at all, but we all do it). As I stepped in the elevator I saw one of the maintenance guys for our building rounding the corner towards the elevator bank literally dripping wet and carrying a plunger. This sad fellow must have been very close to the epicenter. Several horrific images of exploding toilets flashed through my head and I realized the likelihood of my day being as bad as this guy's day had already been was very slim. I thought to myself, "wherever he is going, I hope he washed his hands and he is not getting in this elevator car with me."

Luckily the stench didn't make it up to the 4th floor and when I left that day the smell was gone. I can only assume that something happened in the lobby restroom which unfortunately for the maintenance guys is common. The couple of years I have worked in this building they have had several incidents where the homeless population that lives under the bridge and by the drainage ditch have weaseled their way into the restroom and taken baths in the sink, dumps on the floor and other disgusting bathroom anomalies. The interesting thing is they have a keypad on the door to the restroom for this very reason, so short of following someone in or knowing the code I don't understand how they do it. They must have a guy on the inside.