No shit

A few years ago on a Monday I was working out of the local office when I noticed it was about 12:30 and I had not eaten lunch. I looked around the office and the only person around was a relatively new guy who I didn’t know too well. Since our company was about building relationships, I asked him if he wanted to join me for lunch. He said yes and off to PF Changs we went.

I must have had a late breakfast as I wasn’t too hungry and Changs’ portions are large so I just ordered some California rolls. They were a little dry and weird – must have been the weekend rolls left over that they were selling on a Monday

After lunch, we returned to the office and within a few minutes I started to feel an F5 colon blast coming on – it was churning and gurgling like a Three Mile Island reactor meltdown and I knew I needed to hit the restroom fast. Those California Rolls were loaded with some nastiness that my body decided to reject immediately.

Now the office we had – at the time – had a small men’s room with just one toilet so you could not be anonymous if you were launching anything in there substantial … so I hesitated to use it. But I lived only a mile from the office so I decided to go home for the tragedy.

About a half mile home I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. The Cal Rolls and everything I ate from the day before were all starting to head south. I was pinching my ass cheeks together in the car. As I approached my apartment complex, I had to make a quick call – it was all coming out very soon – so I decided I could not drive up the parking garage to my 4th floor apartment and make it down the long hall to my door.

I felt a little bit like Captain Sollenberger when he told the air traffic controller – after the bird strike caused both engines to fail – that he couldn’t make it back to any airport.

We’re gonna be in the Hudson

So my ‘Hudson’ plan was to park in front of the Apt Office as I knew there was a bathroom on the first floor off of the pool area I could use.

So I parked near the main entrance and as I got out the car, I literally had to waddle a bit traversing the 100 feet to the door keeping my cheeks together as the colon blow had travelled all the way to my sphincter.

My pinched ass cheeks and Newton’s Law of Gravity were battling it out on every step.

I made it inside the building and hoped no one was in the bathroom. I opened the door and it was all clear so I waddled to the stall door and pushed it open … all good so far … but as I closed the door and took a step and tried to spin and sit down, I lost my mojo and relaxed for just a second and ….. K’boom!!!! … an absolute Hiroshima blast of liquid like, somewhat solid, foul smelling, endless explosion of ass-matter.

I managed to kinda get my pants off and sit down all while it was being released — so about half went into the toilet and the rest went down my leg, on the floor, in my pants. My underwear, which had barely been pulled down, was sitting between my legs like a sling completely filled with whatever was in my ass 10 second before. So I lifted the underwear up, backwards and then down and its contents splashed back into the water like someone dropped an 18 pound Honeybaked ham in it.

So now I have to triage this motherfucker – I have to clean this up and get to my apartment. So I took a quick inventory of what clothes could be saved and what is soiled and needs to be burned. I took my shoes off and used my socks to clean up some of the area – my tee shirt was used to clean up as well. My underwear was a disaster. I used all the toilet paper and cleaned up as much as I could. I pulled my pants up with ass matter sticking all over my legs and ass, put on my shoes with no socks but did have on my dress shirt.

I was able to get out the stall and then used paper towels to finish cleaning and eventually stuffed all the shitty clothes and everything else down the trash can.

I declined to use the elevator to get to the 4th floor as I had to smell like shit. I walked down the hall, took the stairs and got to my place. I took off my pants and threw them in the trash, cleaned my shoes, and took a long shower.

Then I drove back to work like nothing had happened.

Moral of the story …

Avoid Monday Sushi