The Day I Shit My Pants

I’m sure you’re expecting me to say “Well, I didn’t really shit my pants…” and then go into a story on how I’m a responsible adult who doesn’t DO such things. But alas, that’s not going to happen.

So MrC and I headed to the lake one weekend with the understanding that we would drive back to the city to look at wedding venues on Saturday. We got up early Saturday morning and headed back north to check out two places that had caught our eye.

I was wearing heels with a cute top and white shorts. I NEVER wear white shorts. In general, I’m a very messy person. Crumbs, soda… whatever. So I tend to error on the side of caution and wear anything BUT white. But this day- THIS DAY I was feeling confident. My period was over by a week. And I loved my white shorts that fit well but were comfortable. So I wore white shorts.

MrC and I stopped at McDonalds for a quick bite before we toured the two places. We were about 10 miles from the city when my stomach started rolling. My stomach is not the most sensible thing on my body. It tends to go from happy to you’re-gonna-pay-for-that in a minute flat. MrC is used to this by now and my sudden HAFTA-GO-NOW urges. But this? THIS was worse than normal. So with a furrowed brow, I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. Like now. So he recognized the look in my eye and pulled over at the next gas station.

I can’t say when, exactly. But there was a point from me telling him to stop and the bottom of the exit ramp that I had an, um, feeling that it might be too late. So I prayed. EXTRA HARD. That I was wrong. That I was SO WRONG and I would joke with MrC later how I “almost didn’t make it.”. So we get to the nearest gas station and MrC parks right up front. My mind searched for a subtle way to NOT walk in front of the truck…. but there was no way. I had to. So I just told myself it was probably nothing and to just go in. I walked in front of the truck (and thus in front of MrC) like someone who didn’t have a care in the world.

So I walk in and I walk quickly to the bathroom. I try the handle once. Twice. It won’t open but it’s not locked. Then I notice the sign. “Please See Cashier for Key.”

REALLY?! The bathroom is inside and you need a KEY?! So I walk to the front, ask for the key as calmly as I could and then hurry back to the bathroom.

I get in the door, lock it, turn around and yep. I had shit my pants. A huge stain all up my ass. Showing right through my used-to-be-cute white shorts.

I panicked. I tend to be a calm thinker but there was no way I was covering this up. I removed my white shorts and my underwear and frantically washed them in the sink. (This should be a warning that you NEVER KNOW what someone did in a gas bathroom sink. NEVER) Nothing. That stain was there for good. My mind rushed through things I could do. But there was nothing.

So I stayed in there for a good 3-5 minutes trying to clean myself up. Then I looked in the mirror, said “Fuck it” and decided there was nothing I could do.

So I walked out of there, shit stain on my white shorts and all. Handed the cashier the bathroom key like I LIKED having shit on my white shorts. Then I walked out to the truck. I opened the truck door mentally trying to decide what I should tell MrC. I opened the truck and….. there was a newspaper placed in my seat. I busted out laughing. I couldn’t look MrC in the face but he was laughing with me and then I looked at him and said “So I guess you saw huh?” He started laughing harder. I retold him my story of the locked bathroom, the panic.

Then he tells me his side. He had indeed seen my shit stain as I was walking in. He had reached for his phone to call me and then saw my phone still sitting next to him. He said he contemplated what to do (run in after me?) then said “Fuck it. I’ll just wait it out.”

We then went on a task of finding me some new pants to wear (”I’m not going looking for women’s underwear. I have to draw the line somewhere.” -MrC proclaimed.) So I wore a pair of dark gray scrubs (that looked close enough to dressy pants) with my cute top, heels, and no underwear. We missed the open hours of one venue but we were still able to make the second one.

On the way home, MrC proudly proclaimed “Today. Today I am SUPERIOR!” And for once, I couldn’t argue.

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5 Responses to “The Day I Shit My Pants”

  1. Dory Says:

    Massive kudos to you for being able to post that. And a thank you bc I needed a chuckle. So, um, for your wedding what will you do? OH!! Suggestion that one of my bridesmaids told me, wear cotton granny panties because no friend wants to pull down your teeny thong when youre swesting (and you will sweat).

  2. Sarah Lee Says:

    You’re my favorite. Not everyone is willing to humiliate themselves for a blog post. I have stories like this! Well, sorta. Thankfully I’ve never actually done this, just come real close a bajillion times - having half a colon will do that to you. But you had the real deal. And that your man saw and laughed with you and put a newspaper down for you. Oh my word. Best start to my day laughing this hard.

  3. The Plague and Other Ickies | The Perox Side Says:

    […] horrible or shocking (no, for that, please check out my friend The Cubicle’s Backporch post titled “The Day I Shit My Pants” which, if I was cool enough to hand out awards, would totally […]

  4. Emily Says:

    OMG. I was linked to your blog from another blog and I had to read because this happened to me too! But in the middle of the park bathroom, 2.5 miles from home, with my dog at my side. One of the more embarrassing calls to my husband ever. “Ummm, can you come pick me up? Like, right now? And can you bring some pants. And some paper towels.” I will never leave home without some tissue in my pockets again. Because I now know that cleaning up in a public bathroom (with multiple stalls BTW) that doesn’t have any paper towels is nearly impossible. And really F-ing awkward. Thanks for the laugh!

  5. slynnro Says:

    This was great. but I didn’t laugh out loud until “Handed the cashier the bathroom key like I LIKED having shit on my white shorts.”

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