Who’s been shitting in my toilet?

Its always repulsive to think of a dirty public toilet that stinks of piss and whatever else has managed to attach itself to the walls of a very public cubicle, but when someone actually comes into the privacy of your own home and treats your own private toilet with similar disrespect, it really is cause for complaint.
There are some individuals in this life who are just plain… dirty. Pigs, muckbags , whatever you wish to call them.
Many years ago when I lived in London, it was apparent that some clients of a certain nationality were downright filthy.
I had seen turbans removed and witnessed a tied up long stem of hair which was nothing more than a film of fine grease.
It seemingly was part of their religious traditions that they wore this turban for a period of time and that washing their uncut hair deemed them ‘unclean’. Don’t ask me how long they were required to keep it unwashed, I don’t want to know!! But god only knows.

I had also been told that this particular nationality was not too interested in using toilet paper and that in their native country they used the back of their hand to wipe and clean their backside. The thoughts of this of course simply beggared belief! It could just not be possible! ; but in later years when I worked here in my own native Ireland I found the occasional unwashed ass/bum/anal area full of traces of excrement , flakes of dried gick stuck in between their ass globes and I almost vomited at the sight of it, not to mention the farmyard like odour which almost encouraged a sudden regurgitation of my earlier lunchtime sandwich. I soon learned how to deal with that one.

I was sure that this type of filth was the stuff of by gone days; that was until late last Spring when I had a visit from what would become an unwelcome client.
My phone rang early one lunchtime and I heard the voice of an eager punter telling me he was ‘in my area’ and that he could come right away to visit me.
I agreed , and within 5 minutes a white van with a ladder on its roof rack pulled up outside and parked itself opposite my house.
Out jumped a well rounded over weight middle aged man with glasses in his working clothes and muddy boots .. the builders variety, which of course swiftly told me the class of man I would be dealing with. A lot of these guys are quite cheerful but this old codger had other ideas.

I opened my front door and brought him into the work room.
He looked me up and down and asked ‘ How much do you charge?’
I was immediately annoyed and knew what his game was. No one walks into my home and ‘asks’ the price; he would have either been told on the phone beforehand or he would have asked.
I told him the fee was ‘120 for half an hour’.
I’ll give you 80′! he exclaimed.
I repeated again ‘I charge 120 for half an hour’.
’80!!’ he replied back.
‘I don’t haggle’ I told him, ‘120 or nothing’.
‘Ok’ he said, ‘well could I use your toilet for a minute?’
‘Yes’ I replied whilst feeling a sneaking suspicion that he was not going to stay.

After a good 5 minutes had passed by, he emerged from the toilet and said to me … ‘I have to go and take a missed call , i’ll take it out in the van, I’ll be back in a moment’.
I saw him out the door and in truth , I was glad to see the back of him. I didn’t like his haggling ways plus I decided I just didn’t like his attitude.

He got into his van and just like I had predicted, he turned on the engine,, put the boot down and drove off in a frenzy!
‘Good riddance!’ I told myself.
I proceeded to the bathroom and what met me next warranted execution!
The filthy pig had taken a piss and a shit in my toilet and had not only sprayed the toilet seat, but had left thick skid marks on my toilet bowl!!!
YUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!
This filthy pig obviously felt the need to expunge the contents of his morning sausages, bacon and black pudding in my toilet .
All I can say is ….. A dog would’ve been cleaner!

I proceeded to restore confidence by disinfecting the toilet bowl with both Domestos and toilet brush. I very much doubt he had bothered to wash his hands but any towels on view were instantly sent to the washing machine.
Following this unfortunate incident, I decided to set out the ‘Terms’ on my Escort profile advert as I had quite frankly had had enough.
The ‘new’ terms read:
‘ Please do NOT come into the privacy of my comfortable home and attempt to negotiate prices that you already know and then ask to use my toilet facilities!
I am not a horse trader from the BOG, You are in the city now boys; Please respect the lady as I do you. Thank you’!

I can’t even begin to tell you the uproar that this particular sentence caused shortly after on the forums of the biggest escort site in Ireland.
One particular individual suggested writing me a bad review and how dare I insult every man outside of Dublin and that I was nothing more than an ‘ ignorant Irish escort’.
This led to a 12 page debate on which the majority of punters were rightfully taking my side, they fully understood my situation , and for that poor old country guy who was offended by it? he was given a user ban for a month. Nice!
There is no such thing as bad publicity.
But the upside of it was that it gained me some very interesting clients who were very interested to know who I actually am. I received a lot of calls from guys saying they had a great laugh when they read the new ‘terms’ and they desperately wanted to meet me.
My post had piqued curiosity and sparked enthusiasm. And had gained me a healthy new clientele which translated into a loyal following.

As I say; I am very selective about my clientele and am far less tolerant these days of idiots, dirty or otherwise. Whether they set out to waste my time or have just a plain old laugh at my expense.
The great unwashed just don’t feature anymore, telling them to take a shower upon entry to your premises wont really change anything.
If they don’t know how to shower themselves properly at home, then you can hardly expect them to know how to do it at yours.

The moral of the story ….. its not about who’s been shitting in my toilet; its about who’s been shitting in yours?