With winter right around the corner, what better time to talk about taking a dump in the cold. Let’s lean our attention towards this week’s Anonymous as he gives us his confessional.
I thought long and hard and went through my mental Rolodex of shitting-myself-stories, and there are some good ones, and decided I’d go with a real crowd pleaser from a few years back. I was flying back from my company’s national meeting out in Scottsdale. Since the flight was booked for me as opposed to me handling my own travel I had an early morning flight coupled with a 4 hour layover in Minneapolis. Keep in mind it was January. Had the company’s big gala event the last night of the meeting so the 5am shuttle to the airport smelled like booze, bad breath, and the subtle aroma of regret from a few sales guys who knew they had gotten too hammered the night before and said something inappropriate to an executive.
Work party scaries are life-altering. No joke I briefly quit a job once after a Work Christmas Party gone wild. Remember to mix in a professional water every other drink and never shit where you eat.
My usual morning routine includes a solid 15 minutes on the toilet however being hungover coupled with racing out the door because I was bordering on late left me unable to do so before I left. Got to Sky Harbor and surprisingly didn’t feel the morning pangs of shit I usually do, just the horrible cotton mouth and headache of a solid hangover. I remedied that with 2 sausage breakfast burritos at McDonald’s with a Diet Coke, no hash brown because that would be unhealthy. Not a great food choice but I felt like shit and McD’s made sense.
Taking down some of that Grease Lightning during a hangover is always the move as long as you have time for a straight body cleanse in the very near future. That’s day 1 IBS orientation stuff that most of us already know, but doesn’t hurt to say it one more time for the people in back.
Slept most of the way to MSP however was actually woken up by the familiar shit pain/cramp and being that I was in the window seat I allowed my hangover to win out and rode out the 5 minutes of cramping. One of those odd moments where you convince yourself,” Oh yeah, I’m good, I don’t even have to shit anymore.” From there I went back to sleep and woke up in Minneapolis….in January.
The “I don’t have to shit anymore” feeling is the work of the devil himself. Never under any circumstances do you trust that feeling. If anything, consider it an extra quarter in the grace period and continue to walk like the aliens from Signs straight to whatever toilet you’re about to break.
Still hungover I went to my gate half debating whether I should go shit because I knew my body was behind schedule. I instead went to Caribou Coffee and got a cheese danish and a tea???!!! I didn’t even hear myself order it but that was my exact order. I have never ordered a cheese danish in my life, I can only think because it was the closest and I felt like shit that I just pointed and grunted. From there I went to my gate and boarded my delayed by an hour flight to Philly.
As that flight went I struggled about every 30 minutes with cramps but never enough that I couldn’t battle it out. Didn’t hurt that I knew if I opened the flood gates I would be in the airplane bathroom for 30 minutes and I was sitting next to a new cute girl from our company.
Cute girl/co-worker is a potential witness made in Hell. Brutal set of circumstances for our friend Anonymous so far.
Landed in Philly and made a beeline for my car. No more cramping but again, I knew the right decision was to shit at the airport but honestly, it’s fucken gross and I thought I could do the long play here and get home and enjoy a nice long session at home.Got to my car parked in the outside parking garage and started to drive down from the 4th floor…..and then it hit!
Potential witnesses: Other drivers/possible pedestrians in the vicinity of the P-garage. Parking garages are actually pretty decent spots to take shits at as long as we’re on topic.
Pants Situation: Our guy’s repping A SUIT. The worst of the worst. $100+ shit every time.
Current form of transit: Driving. Again, always convert to foot as soon as you can.
Nearest restroom: The Marriot.
The cramp to end all cramps, where you know you are on a limited clock and have seriously miscalculated. I drive down the ramp with my ass off the seat so I could keep my muscles all engaged. For those familiar with PHL Airport there is a Marriott connected to it….I tried to pull in front to run in and was told right away they would tow me if I left my car! I drove back up the ramp and as I exited on the roof, at 9pm, in January, in maybe 12 degrees with piles of snow everywhere I couldn’t stop it!
Moment of silence please.
I fully filled my boxer briefs while wearing a middle of the road Joseph A Bank’s suit. I pulled into a spot, got out of the car, peeled off my underwear and flung it against the low wall surrounding the roof level and watch it hit the wall with a thud and then slowly steam!? I wiped my ass with an old draw string bag I found in my trunk and left that there too.
A draw-string bag is up there in the weirdest impromptu toilet paper rankings that we’ve come across in these diaries so far. Good for you for making something out of nothing like that.
I drove home, took an hour, had horrible diaper rash like an infant for a week and had to hand scrub my suit pants, you know because they smelled like hot shit. This was on a Friday, I flew out again on Tuesday. Again, for those familiar with PHL, by Tuesday the only spots left in the lot are usually the roof because of the weather so I ended up back on the 5th floor and I drive right by the scene of the crime….and there, stuck to the wall, frozen solid, basically right where I had flung them, were my shit-filled boxer briefs.
To this day I wonder what happened to them. What was the clean up? Did they stay there through the winter to eventually “thaw” out and fall to the ground or did some guy have to chip them off the wall while still frozen? I wonder frequently, thoughts?
It’s like I always say, if no one sees you shitting your pants then you didn’t shit your pants. It’s that simple. Another winner in the IBS Diaries this week. Thanks for coming out everyone, ’til next Monday.
PS - I started a new series, the 7 Eleven Drink Tournament (featuring Yosif & Ashish), that I upload to my Twitter daily* if anyone is interested in some very dumb nightly videos. Just trying out some new content. Kill me.