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 The Inopportune UrgePosted 12.15.2004 by Fecal_Matters (20)
Over the summer I went with my family to catch a game at U.S Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox. I had a few beers, a few vodka/lemonades, four hot dogs, peanuts, and God knows what else, 'cause I tend to overeat when I'm drinking.
The game ended. As we were walking towards the exit I farted a few times, but nothing out of the ordinary, and I carried on along my way. We got down the street to the parking lot, and as we got to the car I farted once again. Only this was no drill -- this was the war bugle playing. I started to sweat because, as anyone who has been on the south side of Chicago knows, there is nowhere to take a dump. Not to mention I had a carload of people: my girlfriend, my brother, his wife, and their two-year-old and their eighteen-year-old daughter. I start eyeing places to squat. NOTHING! My heart was racing. But I figured screw it, I'm thirty minutes from home, I can make it. I jumped in the car and started driving. I hit the expressway and... ya know... I should have known better. Construction traffic. I'm sweating bullets, my heart is pounding, I'm white knuckling the steering wheel, and to add insult to injury, every four blocks in the construction zone there is a porta crapper -- only there is no shoulder or anything to pull over on to. It was as if the Gods of Defecation were against me. I felt defeated. I was in agony, and for the first time in my life, I gave in. I came to terms that I wasn't in danger of crapping my pants, I was GOING TO crap my pants -- in front of my family and an eighteen-year-old girl. My mind went from survival to cover up -- what to say, what to do, and so on, when I did crap. Well, traffic opened up, I floored it, and I was making good time. I started to think I might actually prevail. But ten minutes from my brother's house, he says, "Hey, can you take this exit and go to Walgreens? " My heart sank. It was a detour my sphincter could not endure. I panicked -- and then realized there's a gas station right off the exit. SALVATION! I'm literally one heavy breath, one pothole, one lock of the brakes away from utter humiliation -- and I see that the gas station is CLOSED! I knew that the next gas station was a mere four blocks away; I think I lost two pounds of sweat on that short drive. I swore to God I'd be a better person, I'd give to the homeless, I'd go to church on Sundays, if only He'd please let me make it four more blocks. We pulled in. I didn't realize the gas station was right across from a Walgreens until my family asked why I was here and not there. But there was no time for small talk. I ran in and asked for a key. The attendant handed it to me, its cold metal glistening in my hand like the Holy Grail itself. I made it. Unbelievably, I made it. I'm now a devout Christian, I work at a homeless shelter, and I refuse to eat at Sox Park. -- Fecal_Matters Post new comment
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