Me, At Your Sewage Treatment Plant

I'm making light of it, but my visit today to the Blue Plains Sewage Treatment Plant was actually fascinating. It was for a Washingtonian story, of course, and included lots of very up close views of the processing of our you-know-what.

PROCESSING STAGE ONE. IT'S OKAY TO THINK "YUCK." (LOVE THE GREENERY)

The people who work there, bless their stankin' livelihoods, have created a glossary of alternative words. But our guide laughed, thankfully, when he took us to a particular location, described it in the most PC possible way, and I said, "so, basically, this building is full of shit?" 

PROCESSING STAGE TWO. THIS IS JUST WHAT YOU THINK IT IS. MOREOVER, IF YOU FALL IN YOU DIE

And don't think you're not represented. The science of waste treatment is so advanced they have DNA codes for everyone. Flush. Boom. Identified.

A PORTA POTTY AT THE SEWAGE TREATMENT PLANT. THERE'S A LOGIC THERE 

Yes, I was tempted to headline this post "My Day In (Your) Dung." However,I still have a few, albeit loose, restraints. 

ONE OF THESE GLASSES HOLDS HIGHLY CLEANED EFFLUENT, THE OTHER HOLDS WATER YOU MIGHT DRINK. YOU GUESS.

In sum, when this story appears in Washingtonian it will be fantastic. 

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[Richard C. Kreutzberg]

Life is a bowl of poop soup and every day is another sip.