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| Everyone Poops |
I had just started seeing this woman (lets call her GiGi, short for Groupon Girl due to her insistence on using a Groupon for our second date) about a month prior. Unlike previous attempts at relationships, we agreed we would wait a month before having sex. In today's day and age, that's a long ass time. Sure, we did other things but we never went "all the way." I will admit that it was nice to get to know a person beyond the lust and realize you genuinely like them for who they are (the yoga pants helped).
We finally reached a month and were set to have a romantic weekend together. It would begin with dinner, a few drinks with friends, and then home to finally explore each other and get to know each other on a physical level. We were smart enough to know the first time may be awkward, but its what we waited for and what we wanted. So that night we made sweet love to each other. We explored and touched and grabbed and pulled and embraced each other.
Aside from her mentioning that I needed work on my cardio, I think the sex went well enough to know that it was only going to get better. I couldn't wait for the next time.
The next day, we lazed around watching movies and fooling around some more...okay, a lot more. As is prone to happen, we got hungry so she heated up some chili she had made earlier in the week for her kids. While chili is not what you want on a hot Denver day, it satisfied the hunger and gave us the necessary carbohydrates to power us through the day.
Around 2:00 PM, we were feeling lazy and needed to get out of the house. The grocery store was just up the street so we decided to go get some food to make dinner later that night. It was a warm day so I figured we would drive; however, GiGi, being the fitness freak that she is, thought walking would be better as it would get the blood flowing and give us some needed energy.
The walk there was fine; however, the walk back is when shit started to get real. Pun intended.
Now, before I get into what happened next, let me explain a few things. I pride myself on being a pretty regular pooper. I'm good for once a day or, at worst, once every other day. I would always poop at work in the mid afternoon. Why shit for free when you can get paid to shit, right? Well, my company was in dire straights and weren't quite sure what they were going to do so they sent us home for the week with pay. While a mini-vacation is nice, not being at work played havoc on my gastrointestinal system. By now, I hadn't pooped in probably three days, but I just got laid by this gorgeous woman so I forgot all about my lack of shit time.
Back to the story...
About halfway back to her house, as we're walking through this residential neighborhood, I felt something down below that I knew was only going to grow into a bigger problem the more I walked. It became a race against time! I clenched my ass and shortened my steps! I had to make it back to her place before the bottom dropped out. I started to sweat, not from the heat and exercise, but mostly because I had a goddamed turtle head poking out my unpredictable ass and every ensuing step brought Leonardo (or Michelangelo or Donatello, whichever one of those little fuckers it was) further into the world.
We rounded a corner and it was like God heard my internal cries for help and offered me sweet relief. Up ahead, about five houses away, I saw a house under renovation, and what was sitting right there in the street? Under a single ray of sun? A porta-fucking-potty! Yes! I am saved!
By now I had informed her of my dilemma and told her I needed to stop in at the porta-potty for a minute. She laughed and said she would continue to walk ahead and I could catch up. That's fine, I really don't need her standing outside the shitter listening to me squeeze out three days worth of food and protein shakes. It felt like heaven but reeked liked hell. Move along, GiGi, nothing to see here.
I was only in their for a minute. It must have been 150 degrees inside so I did what I could in the minute provided and got the hell out of that lime green oven of shit. Feeling light and refreshed I jogged up to her and we continued our walk home. I felt so much relief that I started to laugh and joke and play with her all the way, until....
About 50 yards from her home the bottom started to fall out again, but this time with great fervor. I think I pissed off my ass because it was clearly seeking revenge. Sonofabitch! How can this be? I got the bulk of it out, what hell has been born inside me that needs to be set free? I shuffled, I clenched, I held my breath, I didn't talk...I was focused on getting back to her place. Ahead of her about 10 feet, I threw the gate open, slid open her door, attempted to take two steps at a time up her stairs while still clenching my butt cheeks. Just as I reached her bathroom the pressure was gone. I didn't feel the need to poop anymore. For a half-second I was relieved until I realized why the pressure was gone.
I must have sat in her bathroom a good five minutes wondering what the fuck I was going to do. My shorts are ruined due to the poor choice of going commando on this hot day. I'm covered in my own filth so I'm frozen as I worry any movement whatsoever will have disastrous results. My only blessing is that there is a shower in the bathroom. I gingerly escape my soon to be thrown away shorts, careful not to let them touch any goddamned thing on me or in the bathroom, and rinse off. I wrap a towel around my waste and head downstairs to get a bag for the biohazard still sitting in her bathroom.
GiGi is in the kitchen so sneaking a bag is out of the question. She turns and looks at me, sees me in a towel, and has a look of utter confusion. Words are very hard to come by at this moment and all I can muster is, "I didnt make it." I stand there in just a towel for what seems like forever. She's not saying anything. I've said all there is to say.
They say your life flashes before your eyes in moments of peril, well, in this case, our entire relationship flashed before my eyes. I recalled our first date to Snooze for brunch, followed by frisbee in the park whereby she spit water on me before running off as I chased her. I thought back on hanging out at the car show where we picked out our favorite cars. There was the time I met her at her office and we went for a lunchtime walk. Hanging out at the mall that ended with us fooling around in her car like high schoolers.
Then I remembered that we had just slept together the night before. Dear God, there is no way this woman will ever want anything to do with me again. Who does that? You sleep with someone for the first time, spend the day all over each other, laughing and playing, and then he shits himself. What 44 year old man shits himself? We learned this 40+ years ago! I've perfected the art of shitting! Never had a problem with shitting until now! How is this happening? What the hell, God? I'm done. Toast. Finito. I lower my head in shame.
Finally, I look up at her, our eyes meet, and it's a this moment my fate will be decided. Will she kick me out in just a towel? Will she assist just long enough to get the mess cleaned up then kick me to the curb? Will she throw up? All these crossed my mind. I waited with hesitant anticipation.
All of a sudden, I swear to God I have never heard anyone laugh as hard as her. She couldn't stop laughing. I started laughing. We laughed together, but five feet apart. She was crying! After she composed herself, she handed me a bag and I went upstairs to finish the crime scene cleaning. All I had to clean with was toilet paper and white towels, so basically just toilet paper. I came down a while later, dressed in the previous nights clothing, and she's still laughing underneath her breathe. She knows I'm embarrassed. She feels bad for me, but she cant stop laughing.
Finally, she looks at me and says, "Would you feel better if I did this?" and with that she let out a loud a boisterous, protein-fueled, quite healthy, mom fart. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrap!
I swear if I hadn't only known her for a month, I just might have proposed to her.Although I can't imagine her accepting knowing I had just shit myself not 10 minutes earlier.
We continued to date a short time longer but, ultimately, things didn't work out between us. Shit happens and you move on.
But for the simple fact that I completely shit myself in her home, damn near in front of her, and her response was laughter and a fart, she goes down as one of the coolest women I've ever dated.
I just wish I could have fucked her one more time.
Aside from her mentioning that I needed work on my cardio, I think the sex went well enough to know that it was only going to get better. I couldn't wait for the next time.
The next day, we lazed around watching movies and fooling around some more...okay, a lot more. As is prone to happen, we got hungry so she heated up some chili she had made earlier in the week for her kids. While chili is not what you want on a hot Denver day, it satisfied the hunger and gave us the necessary carbohydrates to power us through the day.
Around 2:00 PM, we were feeling lazy and needed to get out of the house. The grocery store was just up the street so we decided to go get some food to make dinner later that night. It was a warm day so I figured we would drive; however, GiGi, being the fitness freak that she is, thought walking would be better as it would get the blood flowing and give us some needed energy.
The walk there was fine; however, the walk back is when shit started to get real. Pun intended.
Now, before I get into what happened next, let me explain a few things. I pride myself on being a pretty regular pooper. I'm good for once a day or, at worst, once every other day. I would always poop at work in the mid afternoon. Why shit for free when you can get paid to shit, right? Well, my company was in dire straights and weren't quite sure what they were going to do so they sent us home for the week with pay. While a mini-vacation is nice, not being at work played havoc on my gastrointestinal system. By now, I hadn't pooped in probably three days, but I just got laid by this gorgeous woman so I forgot all about my lack of shit time.
Back to the story...
About halfway back to her house, as we're walking through this residential neighborhood, I felt something down below that I knew was only going to grow into a bigger problem the more I walked. It became a race against time! I clenched my ass and shortened my steps! I had to make it back to her place before the bottom dropped out. I started to sweat, not from the heat and exercise, but mostly because I had a goddamed turtle head poking out my unpredictable ass and every ensuing step brought Leonardo (or Michelangelo or Donatello, whichever one of those little fuckers it was) further into the world.
We rounded a corner and it was like God heard my internal cries for help and offered me sweet relief. Up ahead, about five houses away, I saw a house under renovation, and what was sitting right there in the street? Under a single ray of sun? A porta-fucking-potty! Yes! I am saved!
By now I had informed her of my dilemma and told her I needed to stop in at the porta-potty for a minute. She laughed and said she would continue to walk ahead and I could catch up. That's fine, I really don't need her standing outside the shitter listening to me squeeze out three days worth of food and protein shakes. It felt like heaven but reeked liked hell. Move along, GiGi, nothing to see here.
I was only in their for a minute. It must have been 150 degrees inside so I did what I could in the minute provided and got the hell out of that lime green oven of shit. Feeling light and refreshed I jogged up to her and we continued our walk home. I felt so much relief that I started to laugh and joke and play with her all the way, until....
About 50 yards from her home the bottom started to fall out again, but this time with great fervor. I think I pissed off my ass because it was clearly seeking revenge. Sonofabitch! How can this be? I got the bulk of it out, what hell has been born inside me that needs to be set free? I shuffled, I clenched, I held my breath, I didn't talk...I was focused on getting back to her place. Ahead of her about 10 feet, I threw the gate open, slid open her door, attempted to take two steps at a time up her stairs while still clenching my butt cheeks. Just as I reached her bathroom the pressure was gone. I didn't feel the need to poop anymore. For a half-second I was relieved until I realized why the pressure was gone.
I must have sat in her bathroom a good five minutes wondering what the fuck I was going to do. My shorts are ruined due to the poor choice of going commando on this hot day. I'm covered in my own filth so I'm frozen as I worry any movement whatsoever will have disastrous results. My only blessing is that there is a shower in the bathroom. I gingerly escape my soon to be thrown away shorts, careful not to let them touch any goddamned thing on me or in the bathroom, and rinse off. I wrap a towel around my waste and head downstairs to get a bag for the biohazard still sitting in her bathroom.
GiGi is in the kitchen so sneaking a bag is out of the question. She turns and looks at me, sees me in a towel, and has a look of utter confusion. Words are very hard to come by at this moment and all I can muster is, "I didnt make it." I stand there in just a towel for what seems like forever. She's not saying anything. I've said all there is to say.
They say your life flashes before your eyes in moments of peril, well, in this case, our entire relationship flashed before my eyes. I recalled our first date to Snooze for brunch, followed by frisbee in the park whereby she spit water on me before running off as I chased her. I thought back on hanging out at the car show where we picked out our favorite cars. There was the time I met her at her office and we went for a lunchtime walk. Hanging out at the mall that ended with us fooling around in her car like high schoolers.
Then I remembered that we had just slept together the night before. Dear God, there is no way this woman will ever want anything to do with me again. Who does that? You sleep with someone for the first time, spend the day all over each other, laughing and playing, and then he shits himself. What 44 year old man shits himself? We learned this 40+ years ago! I've perfected the art of shitting! Never had a problem with shitting until now! How is this happening? What the hell, God? I'm done. Toast. Finito. I lower my head in shame.
Finally, I look up at her, our eyes meet, and it's a this moment my fate will be decided. Will she kick me out in just a towel? Will she assist just long enough to get the mess cleaned up then kick me to the curb? Will she throw up? All these crossed my mind. I waited with hesitant anticipation.
All of a sudden, I swear to God I have never heard anyone laugh as hard as her. She couldn't stop laughing. I started laughing. We laughed together, but five feet apart. She was crying! After she composed herself, she handed me a bag and I went upstairs to finish the crime scene cleaning. All I had to clean with was toilet paper and white towels, so basically just toilet paper. I came down a while later, dressed in the previous nights clothing, and she's still laughing underneath her breathe. She knows I'm embarrassed. She feels bad for me, but she cant stop laughing.
Finally, she looks at me and says, "Would you feel better if I did this?" and with that she let out a loud a boisterous, protein-fueled, quite healthy, mom fart. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrap!
I swear if I hadn't only known her for a month, I just might have proposed to her.Although I can't imagine her accepting knowing I had just shit myself not 10 minutes earlier.
We continued to date a short time longer but, ultimately, things didn't work out between us. Shit happens and you move on.
But for the simple fact that I completely shit myself in her home, damn near in front of her, and her response was laughter and a fart, she goes down as one of the coolest women I've ever dated.
I just wish I could have fucked her one more time.
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