poopreport : Stories About Poop :

Sorry To Leave, But I Gotta Run

Posted 08.20.2002 by Tim D. (22)
It was the first time I'd met my wife's boss, or his wife. My wife and I had dropped by for a drink and a quick visit, and we were making casual conversation with them in their living room. Everything was going smoothly until my stomach (already a little unstable) began to lurch and churn. I had tried to take a dump before leaving home, but with no success.

Now the urge came over me like a torrent of sharp blows to the gut. I tried to be inconspicuous, not letting on to the fury inside my belly, hoping no one would notice the beads of sweat popping up on my forehead.

After maybe the second wave of cramping pain, I knew I had to find a toilet. I asked, and my worst fears were confirmed: "Oh, it's right there," she said, pointing to a door just across the room from where we were all sitting.

I shuffled the fifteen feet to the bathroom, knowing even the most Shameless of shitters would wince at these conditions. This bathroom didn't even have a fan to cover the noise or smell. I could still hear the conversation clearly with the door closed as I leaned over the sink in torment.

There was just no way to release this demon here. I wiped my brow with one of the little guest towels, flushed the empty bowl, and went back out.

Having lived with me for several years, my wife quickly picked up on my immediate need to vacate the premises. She spun a tale of having dinner reservations (or something like that -- I couldn't really focus) and we started the long journey to the car. A few more torturous words on the front porch, and I made it to the car.

The Toyota doors shut and were echoed by a hail of obscenities and prayers. Another wave of pain hit, and I stiffened like a board in the driver's seat, my heels digging into the carpet and the steering wheel clenched in a death grip. "I'm not gonna fucking make it!" I said, steering out of the driveway and down the street.

I thought the scenario through as best I could. The nearest public toilet of any kind was at least five miles away. I couldn't hold out. I had to find a place to shit NOW or my pants (and the driver's seat) would be ruined.

I made the inevitable decision, and pulled off the road about 50 from the house we had just left. Thank God this was a new subdivision and empty lots still outnumbered the finished houses here.

I skidded off the road and simultaneously opened the door, yanked up the emergency brake, and popped the trunk. I at least had the foresight to find something to wipe myself with (I wasn't wearing socks or underwear at the time), so I flung open the trunk lid and grabbed the only viable options: one tube sock and a beach towel. I slammed the trunk and headed into the empty lot like an escaped mental patient.

My wife's boss hadn't gone back inside the house. As I dropped my pants, I could clearly see him turning the sprinklers on in his front yard. I'm not sure if he saw us parked just across the street and wondered what was going on... it's possible he saw a half-crazed man tearing through the weeds waving a sock and a beach towel and wisely decided to stay away.

It's a wonder he didn't hear the thunderous blasts of molten diarrhea splattering in the field, or the accompanying grunts of the man responsible for them. I won't even go into the logistics of wiping your ass with a beach towel while squatting in a field.

My wife still looks at me a little differently since that night, but her boss never mentioned anything. Either he didn't see, or he had enough empathy and/or disgust not to mention it.

-- Tim D.



email this page | printer friendly version
Grab yer towel! (not verified) -- 09.05.2002

Glad the police didnt drive by just then....that could have been a little too much for them to handle!

superpooper (not verified) -- 09.18.2002

I can totally relate to the tension your muscles were in as you constricted every ounce in your body to form a dam against the river of diarrhea that demanded to be reckoned with. Superb.

Di Uhreea (410) -- 09.27.2002

Thank god you made it out safely. My friend was in the woods once when she had to shit "right here right now" and I'm realizing how lucky you were that you didn't do what she did.....When she leaned back on her hands while she was squatting, she put her right hand (the wiping hand) in a big big big pile O' dogshit. With limited wiping supplies, the last thing you need is another area to wipe!! Not to mention the gagging smell of dogshit. It was gloriously funny to watch. Funnier that I wouldn't help.

Jimbob (not verified) -- 09.28.2002

Your wife is a saint! To have such a wonderful woman in your life to be able to help you in time of need is truly a blessing. She's a keeper!!

Lame comment!
SHIT IN MY PANTS (not verified) -- 10.23.2002

GO HERE IF YOUR A MAjOR SHITER! IF NOT YOUT CHIKEN! http://www.jonlocker.100megsdns.com/jon/poop.html

GDogg (not verified) -- 10.30.2002

Dude, just turn the water on! Sure, it draws attention, but at least they can't hear you splurt.

Your wife *is* a saint. My wife would have been totally oblivious, until I fudgified her boss's couch.

Lame comment!
SHIT 4 BRAINZ (not verified) -- 03.08.2003

ALL I CAN SAY IS FUCK

Andrew (34) -- 09.10.2004

dude, this story is awesome! i read this and even my dad thot it wuz funny

DungDaddy (1386) -- 10.16.2006

I'm always amazed at what people will do in a poop emergency. It's just as amazing to see how they get themselves into it.

runninggrrl2 (170) -- 10.16.2006

I would've gone at the boss's house, fan or not. I'm a silent, fast pooper and I rarely arouse any suspicion. At home, I'll often use the pooper and have my husband come in after me and just about be knocked over by the smell. He always says "Why don't you ever fart and grunt when you use the bathroom? It'd at least give me a warning!" LMAO. Great story, though...the best part is that your wife's boss happened to be outside watching. Awesome!


_______
An apple a day keeps the ExLax away!

GottaGoGirl (2616) -- 10.16.2006

"...(I wasn't wearing socks or underwear at the time)..."

I find myself wondering why. Must have been a VERY casual drop-by-for-a-drink!

Funny story; my favorite line: It's possible he saw a half-crazed man tearing through the weeds waving a sock and a beach towel and wisely decided to stay away.

He probably didn't even notice, and if he did, didn't realize it was his recent guest. I think we all have times when we're sure everyone is aware of what we're doing, but they're starring in their own movie, so don't care what you're up to.

Nine Inch Log (362) -- 10.16.2006

Just another reason Douglas Adams is prophetic when he tells us to always carry a towel.

_______
Number One . . . I order you to take a number two.

The Shit Volcano (3740) -- 10.16.2006

I'm sorry to be a butt, but people do the dumbest things to prove that they don't shit. (Or lie about it, anyway.) I have been in a situation similar to yours and I simply used the bathroom. I would rather stink up Gilbert's boss's BR than shit in a field and wipe with a beach towel.

That being said, I laughed at the vision of seeing you squatting on the ground, crap dumping out of your ass, while holding a tube sock and a beach towel. All the while down the road is the boss man wondering if he should come over or not. Ha ha!

_______
I was a category five! Category five, I tell you! Get it right or I'll be back to PROVE IT!!!!- Katrina

Hamster (581) -- 08.27.2007

There's no way I'd have shit in my wife's boss's house (if I had one, and she had one ....) - or anyone else's house for that matter! If I really was that desparate I would pull up and go behind a bush or something - but perhaps a bit further away!!

Post new comment



Prove you're not a spambot: what bodily function is this site about? Four letters, begins with p...

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

*

  • Allowed HTML tags: <a> <em> <strong> <cite> <code> <ul> <ol> <li> <dl> <dt> <dd> <br>
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
More information about formatting options
20,000 character limit / Flood control: 60 seconds between comments and no more than 10 comments per hour
RETURN TO INDEX:
Stories About Poop

make it a brown christmas
 


About PoopReport | Advertise! | The PoopReport Press Room | Report Your Poop | Contact Dave | Copyright 2000-2008 PoopReport.com