Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself; a little background is needed.
I work for a mid-sized company -- formerly a small-sized company, with hopes to some day become a large-sized company. One of our requirements for growth was "compliance to the ISO Standard."
I was the point man for the ISO audit. I was the go-to guy to answer all the auditor's questions. I was about to embark on what should have been a highlight in my career -- and I had made the fatal mistake of ingesting large quantities of chicken gravy the previous night.
Chicken gravy: for years, the nemesis of my bowels. So salty and delicious during intake, but so foul and fearsome once inside. Chicken gravy would usually attack me with the tag-team duo of warm farts and runny poops -- a dangerous combination, as they feel almost identical until the moment of release.
Now, here I sat, the one person who could acquire (or lose) ISO Certification for my employer, and I had enough wet crap in my drawers to refill the gravy boat.
No, this wasn't the first time I had "slipped up" when trying to decipher whether it was a fart or a mudslide. Who among us hasn't fallen victim to that case of mistaken identity? But there was no recovery from this one.
In desperation, I made the clenched-cheek waddle to the bathroom for further inspection. "Maybe it's just in the undies, which can easily be disposed of," I thought as I dropped trou in the men's room.
No. Such. Luck.
The poop-soup had soaked through the underwear and left at least a tablespoonful of chocolate badness inside my jeans.
"Wait, jeans are thick, right? Denim is a very strong material, and not very porous, right? The inside is messy, but maybe the outside is okay...?" These and other desperate thoughts raced through my mind, to no avail. A large brown teardrop had formed on the ass of my jeans, and there was no disguising it as anything other than poo.
With a half-hour to go before the audit, I did my best to lighten the stain with hand soap and paper towels. But I was done for. It was poo and I was stuck with it.
The rest of the day was spent shifting non-stop from side to side, keeping my back against as many walls as I could, sitting whenever possible, holding my hands behind me when walking, and, when no-one was around, laughing my ass off and emailing a buddy with tales of my dilemma. I figured at least I could make his day, since mine was obviously screwed.
-- Chickengravy