When last I left you, my butt cheeks and stomach were clenched tight as I had just opened the sewage system of Pandora's Box in my pants (read yesterday's post if you're lost). It was bad. And I was in a car full of my entire family on a 45 mile drive to the nearest bathroom, so there was little I could do to hide it. What ensued was a half an hour of constantly rolling up and down the windows on my dad's part. Every time he rolled up the window, the stench quickly filled the car, and we all accused each other of farting again, and my dad would roll down the windows again. I think the last 10 minutes or so, they got the hint that this smell wasn't going away any time soon, and they just left the windows down. I kind of rolled over on to my side and sat down on my hip rather than my butt so I didn't smash my fecal matter into the very fibers of the car seat. I mean, come on, I'm a decent human being, have some respect for the mini van! I sweated profusely and said prayers that my insides wouldn't explode all over the place and tried my best to slip into my happy place. It required serious mental concentration to endure that car ride, concentration that only comes from years of prior experience and preparation. Keep in mind that the enemy had already breached the city walls. It wasn't like I just had to go real bad and was holding it, but there was already an unwelcome guest at the party, and the rest of his friends were fiercely banging on the door, trying to break their way in. You've seen the battle at Helm's Deep on the Lord of the Rings, you know what I'm talking about. Imagine the riders of Rohan trying to hold back the Urukai after many of them had already breached the great wall. This is tough stuff we're talking about here.
When we made it to Glendale, we pulled into the only gas station/ restaurant around, and I prayed they would have toilet paper in the bathroom. My prayers were answered as there was an entire package of toilet paper waiting for me in the bathroom. The clean up of this mess was like nothing you've ever seen before. Imagine if hurricane Katrina had dumped sewage water all over the place. That's what it looked like. It required an entire roll or toilet paper and probably 4 flushes or so just to clean myself up. My boxers were obviously soiled beyond the point of trying to repair them, so we said our good byes, and I left them in the garbage. But that presented me with a dilemma. Even though I had gone to the bathroom, my stomach was far from settled. It was still an angry storm in there, and there was no telling when the next assault might be. In the event of a second attack on the car ride home, all that would be protecting the car seat from me was a thin layer of khaki pants. Knowing that the battle was far from over and we still had a good 45 minutes to home, I did the Eagle Scout thing to do and fabricated a diaper out of an entire roll of toilet paper. Yes people, a 15 year old wearing a homemade diaper so he won't get diarrhea on the car seat. Have you ever conceived of a more humiliating scenario? Thus was my lot, the load I had to carry. I wrapped the toilet paper around my leg in every conceivable fashion, sealing off every possible exit. After about 20 minutes in the bathroom, I slowly made my way out to the car, proceeding with caution in every step as to not disrupt my tightly wrapped diaper.
I'll conclude by saying that the car ride home was uneventful, and a nice shower awaited me at home. In the 12 years since the event, I have not eaten so much in one sitting, and I have never again sharted so fiercely. The road was long and hard that I had to walk that day, but the lessons I have learned have stuck with me till now, shaping who I am and paving the way for my future. That's it, end of story.
As you reflect upon this story, think of Matt's smiling face and remember where you came from.
No comments:
Post a Comment