dystop

That way, you can drown out the poop noises.

This is the OG post on lego storage. It still rings true to this day.

I can see why North Korea, Russia etc collect their leaders' excrement, but now I'm wondering how they carry this out.

Do they bring a nice, gilded port-a-potty and put it in the Presidential Suite bathroom, then block off the actual loo? Does this policy extend to family members and spouses? If not, how do they make sure everyone uses the right loo, and what happens if the leader forgets and uses the hotel toilet by accident?

Do they tell the dude not to flush (or disable the flushing mechanism), then when the leader is done with their business, a government official gloves up and retrieves the poo manually? What if the leader had a terrible case of the runs and it's not solid enough to be picked up? Is there a Skunk Works-designed poo vacuum?

Do they just have an entire Royal Shitting Chamber they transport wherever the leader goes, and then install that chamber in every room the leader goes to? If the leader is on a world tour, do they have multiple chambers that they send on to each hotel in advance ("#1 is already in Germany, once the President leaves we're going to disinfect #2 and send it on to Norway")?

Or do they simply obfuscate the leader's poo? Everytime he's done taking a dump, he lets security know, and then someone else comes along and takes a dump into the same toilet and uses a stick to swirl the contents around before flushing? What if nobody in the whole security team needs to take a dump at that moment? Or do they keep a team of shitters on standby, all holding it in and ready to poo at a moment's notice?

Oh, what about storage and logistics? If the country thinks the leader's poo is important enough to be taken home, then surely there must be an armed guard? Is there a Presidential Excrement Escort team, and a Presidential Excrement Emergency Response and Counter-Assault team in case the poo gets hijacked? Does the team bring the poo back to the home country in regular intervals on a separate Poo Force One jet, or is it all stored in a special vault somewhere for the whole trip? Or do they just dump the poo in the ocean somewhere in secret?

[REPOST] Many years ago, I worked at a car dealership. The attached service garage was small and I was the only licensed mechanic.

I would occasionally have issues with male customers— they would second guess my diagnoses, watch me while I worked on their cars from the bay door, double check my work in the parking lot, etc.

I didn’t deal with customers directly and would often get my apprentice to pull cars in and out of the shop for me.

This morning in particular, we were busy. The lot jockey and apprentice were occupied helping wash cars for delivery and driving to a customer’s house.

The service advisor left a work order and keys at the parts counter, and I went out the front through service to get the car. It was in for a service campaign, which was an update done with a scan tool. It takes about 10 minutes.

The customer was planning on waiting and was sitting in service. When he saw me with his keys in my hand, he immediately stood up, alarmed. I was hustling so I walked right by him and out the door. I missed the following conversation, according to the service advisor (also female):

Customer: “Who is that chick? Is she going to be working on my car? I don’t want her working on my car.”

Advisor: “The other tech is out at the moment, so it’s going to be quite a wait until someone else can look at your car.”

C: “That’s fine. I’ll wait for a guy. I don’t want that chick touching my car.”

A, politely: “Understood.”

Cue malicious compliance.

The advisor comes to let me know, and I pull the car out and put the work order and keys back on the counter.

Half an hour passes. The apprentice is still away, and I am happily working on something else, bringing other cars in and out.

The customer is now watching each and every person who comes through the door.

The high school co-op student comes in to get something signed. The customer’s keys are still sitting on the desk. It’s been about an hour now.

C: “Hey— why hasn’t my car gone in yet? Can’t you get this guy to do it?”

A: “No, sorry. He’s just a co-op student so he is not allowed to drive the cars due to liability and insurance concerns.”

C: “Just get someone else to bring the car in and he can do the work. This was supposed to take 10 minutes.”

A: “Sorry, sir. He’s just a high school student doing his co-op; he’s not approved to perform warranty work. Only licensed techs and apprentices can do the recall.”

The car jockey returns. The advisor hands the car jockey a different set of keys, and he brings yet another car into the shop for me. The customer is becoming incensed.

C: “I’ve been sitting here for over an hour and I’ve watched 5 cars go in before mine. My appointment was for 8am, this is getting ridiculous,” blah blah blah.

At this point he says that he literally doesn’t care who does the recall, but that it has to be a guy.

The service advisor starts listing off the names of the men who work in the dealership, then saying why they can’t perform the recall.

“Well there’s Harmon, but he’s just the car jockey. He doesn’t know how to work on cars. Then there’s Jeet, but he’s about 17. I wouldn’t want him doing the recall, personally. I guess we could ask Mike— but Mike is the parts guy— he doesn’t know how to use the scan tool. The detailers are men, but they know NOTHING about cars… ”

The customer is fuming at this point, and demands to talk to the service manager.

The manager comes out of his office, and guides the customer into the garage. He’s pretty old school… lights up a cigarette standing at the end of my bay, and points at me.

“That’s my best technician. Those guys take orders from her. You can either wait for her to finish what she’s working on, and then you can ask if she’s still willing to do your work, or you can take your car somewhere else.”

The guy was pretty shook up at this point and he took his car and left, two hours after he’d first arrived. I don’t think we ever saw him again, which was not much of a loss, all things considered.

That manager in particular ALWAYS stuck up for me and took my side. The service advisor has this very dead-pan sense of humour. She knew full well it would easily be an hour before the apprentice would return from his errand, and that no one else could do the recall.

TL;DR: A customer brought his car in to the shop but when he saw me with his keys asked for a man to do the job instead. The service advisor happily agreed knowing full well there was no one but me to do the job. The customer ended up waiting two hours before leaving without getting his car fixed.

As a bonus it's more environmentally friendly