She responded favorably and soon we were having regular discussions. We exchanged photos and before long she was scheduled to come to boston to visit me.
The day she was to arrive I had been eating and drinking most of the day with another lady friend. The drink of choice that day was homemade bloody mary's with lots of horseradish. After an alcohol-induced nap, I noticed I was going to be late and hurried to my car to drive 45 minutes to the airport.
It began before I arrived. My stomach growled and heaved violently. I felt the pressure on my sphyncter and knew I was in trouble. I got to the airport and quickly found the nearest parking lot.
I got my ticket and went to park, thinking I may end up shitting next to my car. I soon noticed that I was at the long term parking and turned around. When I tried to leave, I couldn't find the ticket and struggled to contain my bowels while tearing the car apart.
By now I was about an hour late and I knew it wasn't going to be good. I drove to the right parking area, hoping for a miracle (or a toilet). When I tried to carefully climb out of the car the bottom dropped out and my pants filled with hot muddy shit.
I managed to walk past my date and found the rest room. The cleanup was horrible. There was shit everywhere and it had soaked through to my designer jeans. I removed my underwear by tearing across the leg holes as not to step through them and make things worse.
I cleaned myself as well as possible and went to face my date. She was extremely angry and was about to take the next flight home. I apologized profusely and she decided to stay.
The ride back to my place was long and smelly. It was freezing outside and I explained to her that I always drive with the window open. When we got there I introduced her to my roommate and friends and snuck away to shower and change. The visit went reasonably well after that and she never questioned the smelly car.
Did she know? Well, she didn't say and I wasn't about to ask.
-- Jean