Beware the poop dollar
“You are never going to believe what just happened to me,” I texted my friend.
Now with this opening, you might think I’m going to tell a story about running into someone I don’t particularly like or I tripped in front of a large amount of people. But no, what I encountered was far worse than that.
After my friend dropped me off in the circle near the towers, I walked toward Tower D. As I got closer, nothing out of the ordinary took place, until I got to about seven feet away from the entrance. It was there that I spotted a dollar bill lying on the ground with George Washington facing the sky just telling me to give him a new home in my pocket.
As soon as I had seen it, I instantly perked up.
In my head, a parade was stomping through, fanfare for my dollar. I imagine that I was smiling visibly as I got closer to the dollar.
As I reached down to pick up the money, I thought how I couldn’t wait to tell my roommate about this discovery, because yes, I share such minuscule details of my life with my friends.
But as I lifted the bill from the ground, it was heavy, and weighed more than the average buck.
I discovered something that would actually make this story so much more interesting to share.
On the other side of the dollar bill was perfectly smushed poop. Looking back, I don’t exactly remember how I dropped the dollar, I may have even thrown it.
My brain had a code red and I was instantly on a mission to wash my hands. I just remember running into my building only to panic, screaming at the security guard for antibacterial. His response, “Oh, you touched the ‘poop dollar.’” Now tell me, please, if someone were to know about this “poop dollar” and this unfortunate incident had happened to other students, why had he not thrown it out or done something to prevent it from happening to another poor innocent student like me?
I imagine I looked crazed when I got in the building and thank God no one was in the elevator because I believe that if someone were to make innocuous conversation with me, I would break down into the fetal position crying “I touched poo.” OK, I’ll cut the drama, but let me just tell you, the knowledge that you touched shit is not pleasant.
Once I got to my room, I ran to the sink and washed my hands more than five times in water so hot it turned my hands red. I didn’t see the humor in this incident until after I had felt clean again and told my roommate what had happened. Code red managed.
I know that clearly it’s no accident that someone just happened to take a dump on a dollar bill and place it so perfectly in front of my tower to tantalize the gullible.
This gimmick, I’ve learned, is known as “poop dollaring.” Apparently it was on the show “Workaholics” and I was not the only victim at Towson.
Since Sunday, my circle of friends has heard about several others that have befallen the same fate as me. I should start a support group. Hello, my name is Brandi, I was poop dollared. The moral is, if you see loose bills just laying around, beware.