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It happened one Monday night after work around 10pm, a night like any other. The most vile, disgusting thing that has ever happened to me before in my life. And who better to share it with my fellow faithful EHOWA subscribers.
credit given to original author if known
I work as a server in the restaurant business and on any given night find myself waiting for the last table to leave. Perhaps it's just my perspective of time that late at night but it always seems that the last table stays the longest. Growing hungrier and more impatient I decided that I would if I was to wait for my table I might as well be eating dinner. I had your typical plate of spaghetti and meatballs that night and ate it down like I hadn't eaten for a week (or at least 8 hours). I finished my duties, encouraged my table to leave and made my way home.
It was on my way home that things started getting uncomfortable for me. As I exited the freeway in my old Porsche (foreshadowing), I decided to let out a quick weight-shifted-on-one-leg-gas-pressure-relief fart. One problem I have is that whenever I eat a large meal my digestive tract likes to make room quickly for the new arrival. This gives me about 30-45 minutes of post-meal downtime to make my way to the head. While nothing dangerous happened during this little gasser, this was my final warning that I was due for core explosion in the next 10 minutes or so.
I knew I didn't want to wake up any earlier than I had to the next morning, so being the cocky bastard that I am and also being completely out of gas I decided to stop at the gas station about one mile from my house.
Feeling fine I started pumping gas and tried to distract myself by checking the oil at the same time. When I bent over to check the oil I realized the countdown was on. This is where I began swearing at Porsche for making such damn big gas tanks. $10, $15, $20 passed... I was getting restless but was still determined to fill-up and reach the comfort of my own home where my Playboy's awaited me. I began to worry, as each dollar of gas seemed to pass by more slowly than the last. $21... $22........ $23.................
It was at the $24 mark that I realized I was no match for my ass and began to make my way to the nearby gas station bathroom while my car awaited door open, gas pumping. The point of no return was long gone and at the halfway marker my ass exploded like a can of Pringles. Once I popped I couldn't stop and with each step I made my warm chocolate filling oozed out like a foot coming down on a squeeze bottle of spicy mustard. I made my way through the bathroom door and spent about .87 seconds looking for a door lock and a light switch and found none. I shoved down my pants as I neared the toilet and watched as the ass juice poured out onto the floor between my legs before streaming over the bowl.
Being haunted by past experiences in gas station restrooms I hovered over the toilet seat being careful not to touch it and let the river flow. After a few seconds I decided to let go, considering the circumstances, and sat my ass down on the shitter (shittier in my case).
A refreshing shock overwhelmed me as I realized the bathroom had just been cleaned for the night and the toilet seat was piss-free. A not-so-refreshing shock overwhelmed me as I realized that because the bathroom had been cleaned for the night the toilet paper, paper towels and toilet seat covers were all gone. Fortunately for me I had been wearing my tighty-whities and most of the load was secured into my adult diaper. In the dark I sat finishing what I had started and began to realize I was going to have to clean my ass somehow and I was shit out of luck (literally). Being too prideful to dare ask anyone for help I did what any man would do and came up with my own damn solution.
I carefully removed my shoes so as not to step in my own shit that was shot gunned on the floor, and did the same with my pants and loaded diaper. I decided that my Hanes weren't leaving the room with me so I would use whatever clean portion of my underwear was left to wipe my chocolate wasteland. I proceeded up the crack of my ass with a consistency similar to cleaning up a gallon of paint with one paper towel. There was no way I was going to finish wiping my ass with what I had.
My next idea was to toss my underwear in the sink and run hot water all over to remove most of the shit with my hands. This worked well enough and I bent over in the middle of the bathroom with soaking wet underwear and sponged out my ass while dripping shit water all over the floor. I felt I had done a worthy job and tossed my now out of commission underwear into the makeshift motor oil box trashcan conveniently located in the corner with a bank-shot off the wall (woohoo! two pointer!).
I now had a cleaner than previous ass that was soaking wet. My only idea was to grab the empty toilet paper tube, tear it in half and use whatever sponge power I could get out of it to dry my bum. Good enough.
I quickly grabbed my pants and carefully slid them on just waiting for the feeling of shit running up my legs and sure enough there it was, but minor enough that I would get home and deal with it. I took one last look at now destroyed bathroom with shit remains in the sink, shit prints on the toilet seat and ass water on the ground and got out of there without a second thought.
My car was long finished filling up at $32 (ATM thank God) and awaited the pedal to the metal it was getting when I would leave. I made one last check of the pants to make sure the outside was dry cause I wasn't about to soil my leather interior. I ran my fingers up the back and right through the chili surprise that was waiting. I took one look at my green shit covered fingers and nearly vomited. My first reaction was to wipe the shit off on my nice clean white undershirt.
I looked around frantically for something, I didn't know what, but something. I gave up and continued wiping on my shirt, reached in the back of the Porsche, grabbed my work apron to line the seat and hauled my ass out of there being careful not to touch anything with my Midas shit-touch.
I made it home minutes later, ran in, ignoring anything going on with the roommates and proceeded straight to the bathroom where I stripped down, got the rest of the shit off my clothes and immediately took a shower. I was lucky enough to not get any shit in my car or anywhere else important like my own bathroom and will remember to skip the gas stop next time.