Home > Personal Stories > OK, I Admit It. I Cleaned Port-o-Potties For Money.

OK, I Admit It. I Cleaned Port-o-Potties For Money.

Here is the shocker of the century – my involvement with shat started young. I mean, obviously we all crap young – that is a given. But I had a more involved youth with poo than many other kids. You see, I had a steady summer career of building and cleaning port-o-potties from age 14 years and on until I graduated from high school. It was the only job that I could find that would hire me at age 15 (and actually I was 14, but I lied on my IRS forms. I’m just a kid – like they are going to make me pay taxes right?) Each summer morning I would get up early and trek off to the factory where I would lay out the pieces for 12 port-o-potties in the sun and begin the tedious process of constructing them. Once the crap houses were completed, I would then begin cleaning the ones that had arrived via truck that morning to be sent out again that afternoon.

It was by no means glamorous work, but it paid a solid $5.75 an hour and afforded me a winter of non-stop skiing money, so I kept coming back like a dog to its vomit. The worse part of the whole endeavor was definitely cleaning them. This involved two hideous steps. The first step was the vacuuming step. Vacuuming? Yes, vacuuming. You see, we had these huge wet-vacs that I would wheel around to suck up the last remaining bits of shat and piss that clung to the walls of the toilet. I would run my well-protected hands down the toilet and begin sucking up everything I could. You had to be careful. If you didn’t watch the vacuum, it would eventually fill up and then the top would explode off, sending a geyser of thick poo liquid into the air, and possibly all over your face and body. Like I said, not very glamorous work.

The second step was to take the high-pressure water hose and spray off the inside. The spray was so strong that it would cut through your skin if you didn’t wear protective equipment. This was normally no big deal and I always had a big apron on to protect me from getting wet. But there was a catch. You may not believe this, but there are some seriously bad people out there who like to tip over port-o-potties at night. The next morning they lay in the hot sun and bake the well-lubricated interior until a solid crap cake lines the entire inside. Every time I opened one, I would pray that it had not been tipped. But at least once daily my fortunate would run out and a tipped john would appear before me.

One particular day I was working on a very stubborn section of poo brick that was stuck on the corner. I aimed and squirted and even reached up with my gloved hands and gave the wall a few solid punches. This s*** was just not budging! I leaned in close to get the hose as close to the wall as possible. It was at that exact moment that a huge chunk of crap flew off and landed right on my shoulder. I stood there with about 2 lbs of other people’s shat all over my shoulder. I freaked. I immediately turned the hose against my shoulder, spraying crap all over my face and bruising my shoulder for several days. This eventually ended with me screaming and running to the bathroom, shedding my clothes and rubbing my face for 15 minutes with cheap soap in an attempt to feel clean.

I don’t think I’ve ever quite felt clean since. But hey, I made a solid $46 that day (pre-tax). Totally worth it.

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