My job was crappy this week. Literally.

I have had a variety of things left on my doorstep over the course of my career.  But Monday’s “present” took the cake.  (Maybe that’s a bad expression in this case).

I was minding my own business when a client texted me that “someone or something defecated outside your door.”  That’s a sentence I never considered I would receive.  I finished my workout (after all, where is that crap going to go?) and went to the office.  The smell in the hallway was unpleasant, to say the least.  It was worse in my office.

The building did its best to clean up the mess.  I took pictures (email me if you want them) and called the police in case there was a serial crapper out there.  One officer, with his trained nose, said it was “definitely human.”  Or, under the circumstances, subhuman.

The mess has been cleaned up.  I don’t have video, so we won’t know who relieved themselves on my office threshold.  So, that was the crappy start to my week.  If the culprit has suffered some ill fate, I would then have a “crap-eating grin”.  I’m pretty sure the quantity was limited to one human.

That’s the crap-filled view of one lawyer from Jupiter, Florida.  I’m Marc Dobin.

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