The Bloody Finger

The Bloody Finger
By Daryl Elliott (January, 2008)

My family owned a small smoothie shop from 2006-2008. We were open for about 9 months before the lack of income made it economically viable to close shop. Our lease didn’t end for another 15 months, however, so we used “Surprises Café” for bi-weekly Texas Holdem tournaments.

For some reason, the men’s bathroom always seemed to be out of order. Since we weren’t open to the public, we weren’t in a big rush to get the Men’s room fixed. This wasn’t a huge problem as there were never more than 15 or 20 people there at a time. The guys would simply use the ladies’ room.

Poker was about to start so I figured I should do my business before being dealt cards and cruising to another decisive victory. I entered the bathroom and took my seat. A few minutes in I was getting restless. Looking back, I should have opened my phone and texted a friend or perhaps played some Tetris. Unfortunately, that’s not what I did. For reasons unknown, I peered into the trashcan in front of the toilet on which I sat. I noticed something beneath a used paper towel – something red and phalange-looking.

The rest of this story makes no sense in my mind and is rather difficult to think about, let alone write about.

I reached in and pulled out the bloody finger. I didn’t use the paper towel to perform this task. I didn’t wear any gloves. I simply used my poor, helpless, exposed hand. I looked at the finger for about 3.6 seconds. Strangely, there was no fingernail and the texture felt more like stiff cotton than flesh. The finger was completely drenched in half-way dried blood -- the original peach-color (or, although highly unlikely but possible, brown-color) of the finger entirely veiled.

It was then that I discovered the error of my way. I looked back into the trashcan, perhaps hoping to find the rest of the hand. No hand was found. Just some sort of wrapper - a clue of sorts. Instantly, something clicked in my mind. And it went something like this.

“TAMPAX does not make fingers!!!”

I felt sick. Dizzy. I immediately threw the “finger” back into the trashcan and proceeded to wash my hands frantically in scalding hot water, liberally using liquid soap. During all of this I am realizing the atrocity which I’d just committed… nearly losing consciousness several times.

Once I regained my composure I left the horror of the bathroom and rejoined my friends, just getting ready to play poker. The scary thing about this whole situation is that one of the girls playing poker that night more than likely was the criminal who instead of FLUSHING her feminine care product AS THE PACKAGING STATES, decided to put it in plain view in the bathroom’s wastebasket.

This whole experience is one of the most disturbing experiences I have had to live through.

If you have any information about this situation or if YOU are the girl that left me that little gift… Please don’t tell me.

Note: in October, 2008 I discovered who the culprit was...