Safe to say you’re in the running for this year’s Grossest Thread award, even though it’s only January. (It reminds me of the time I tossed a fistful of Planter’s Peanuts in my mouth before I noticed that the little single-serving peanut baggie was full of bugs, peanut powder and – presumably – bug poopies. I assure you, I gagged and rinsed for about an hour and a half.)
My sincerest condolences.
I think we have finally discovered a worthy modern successor to the phrase, “fly in the ointment”.
From now on, when we encounter an unexpectedly disappointing situation, we can cluck our tongues and say, “Well now, ain’t that the diarrhea in the jacuzzi!”
I’m thinking that hotel room is free, and so are your next three.
I’m so sorry you had to endure that!
However…as I was reading your very descriptive post here at work, there were tears streaming out of my eyes. No, not from sadness, but from trying with all my might to hold my laughter in. I was shaking and snerking and crying all at once.
At any rate, I closed up the SDMB, but couldn’t stop thinking about your post and just BUSTED out laughing. My co-workers that I had lost my mind, so I had to explain.
Oh my god, your writing was so very descriptive and the mental images flying in my head just did NOT help matters any.
I’m thinking your room will be free now. I’m also thinking that I will NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER use a hotel jacuzzi.
Let’s not let this go by without comment - anyone else flashing back to that comic whose routine included the single guy going home alone; “I had myself in the living room. I had myself in the bathroom. I had myself bent over the kitchen table.” ?
Okay. On to other things. So, I’m still not clear on this - where exactly did the diarrhea come from? Was it in the tub when you turned it on, but you just didn’t notice (and I’m not sure how you don’t notice something like that, but I believe it is possible)?
Hot, frothy poop soup.
As a homebrewer, one of the first things you learn is that liquid below 160 degrees Farenheit is prime bacteria growing conditions (40 deg F or below tends to inhibit them, but you wanted a Jacuzzi, not Titanic: the Experience). While it’s not going to be as quick in water as it would be in my wort, it’s still prime for bacterial reproduction.
So, there’s one thing to take out of this: If you must have a Jacuzzi, make sure the water’s set at 160 degrees F 
(which if you can do, you’re a better man than I!)
I really, really need to see this photo!
Fair enough question. The answer: There was in no way any poop visible before I started this project. I even inspected. Now, this might be delving a little too much in to the obsessive-compulsive mind of Happy, but I even wiped the tub basin out with a Clorox wipe (yes I carry them with me when I travel) before I drew the water and sat my bare ass on that tub floor.
My guess? There was some sort of horrible fecal accident in the room this past weekend. And I’m guessing the maid’s clean-up job was little more than cosmetic. There was probably poop still in the intake/jets.
In hindsight, when I first walked into the room, there was an overwhelming smell of disinfectant. Moreso than I have ever smelled in a hotel room before. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it other than, “Nice clean room.”
Ah, it’s all making perfect, horrible sense. So, did you have yourself in the living room, in the bathroom, bent over the kitchen table? Or is that too personal?
I hope they comped your stay?
Nothing kills a romantic evening like diarrhea in the jacuzzi.
sniff
So true.
And I just have to say something…
Do you? I mean…a poop-stained jacuzzi is a must-see for you?
When I told my girlfriend this story, she expressed great relief that she wasn’t here for this one. If she had been, no matter how much we each protested, we’d both totally be thinking, “Dude, my boy/girlfriend just shit the jacuzzi.”
As far as pics go, I think I’ve already contributed to the downfall of the Board’s quality just by starting this thread. I just don’t think I should post pics. I suppose if anyone wants pics (for their desktop? wallet? christmas cards?), they could email me. I’m more than willing to share my trauma.
As a fellow germophobe, especially fecal germs, I’m just so horrified and aghast at your story. If it had been me, I would have started gagging, which would have led to puking. The whole thing would have ended up going down in hotel history as the Poop and Vomit Incident, and I’d end up in a psych ward, twitching and babbling incoherently, for all of the rest of my days. How awful.
And yet, so so funny. I laughed my ass off, but I really REALLY feel for you.
I can’t. There are some things that are beyond my puny powers of imagination. I’m not even sure a photograph would help. My brain might refuse to process it.
You do realize, don’t you, that we’re going to be thinking of you that way every time you post? 
:eek:
In conclusion, all I can say is . . . nasty.
Words can’t adequately express how sorry I am that this happened.
I need to take a long shower, just in sympathy.
So I suppose you wouldn’t want a nice bowl of chocolate mousse to cheer you up?
I cannot resist. Please send ASAP.
Sadly, I’ve suffered a similar experience.
Several years ago, a friend and I dropped $250 (winter rate–summer rate was $450) a night to stay at a very fancy hotel/spa on the mountain in Telluride, Colo.
After a lovely dinner, my friend went for a massage and I went for a soak in the jacuzzi in the main spa. I was the only one in the pool/spa area, and the jacuzzi bubbles were going when I arrived.
The temperature was perfect, and I must have spent 20 glorious minutes in there relaxing–until the jacuzzi timed out, the water settled, and a very large turd floated to the top of the water.
I leapt like a frog from the water.
As I scurried to my room to begin the disinfection process, I stopped to tell the spa attendant. She said, unconcerned, “I’ll call Maintenance.”
All this hubbub made me think of something Cecil once said.
My suitcase, jacket, laptop, duffle bag, notebooks, camera, jeans, and sweatshirt must all be burned now.