We arrived at the bar around 9 PM. My friends had put a giant sign up in the corner of the bar that read "HAPPY 21st!!!!" I thought this was a very nice thing to do; later I realized that it was a clever ploy for them to only have to buy me a few rounds of drinks. After that the bar got crowded, the patrons noticed the signs and began feeling quite generous -- it was free drinks all night.
The night wore on and it became a sloppy scene. My brother was hitting on my best friend (which was really disturbing -- only hours before he had said she was like his), I was running around demanding people to sing me happy birthday, I picked a fight with a man no taller than 4'6" (that against my female 5'7" frame was quite a sight to behold, I am sure), and I threw up all over my sister and the inside of her car.
We finally arrived home around 2:30. I stumbled up the stairs and landed in the bathroom. I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down and sat on the toilet.
My stomach began cramping up and I didn't feel so good. Between the giant steak dinner and all the beer and liquor, I knew I had to go. I let a big fart and then the poop started to flow. I passed out, then regained consciousness, still sitting on the toilet. I remember thinking to myself in a drunken haze, "hmm something isn't right here, OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT SMELL --" and that is when I realized I had never pulled my underwear down. I had dumped all that shit right into my panties.
I don't remember what happened next. I would assume some laughter, and apparently I took off the offending panties and dropped them on the floor -- poop and all. I must have given myself a good wipe and then went to bed.
7AM the next morning. My mother comes running into my room -- "GET UP NOW!" she screams. My head is pounding and I am wondering why in the hell she would be waking me up, knowing we had been out late. She drags me into the bathroom and says, "clean this up NOW!" I am thinking, what the hell is she talking about?
I look down and there it is: a giant turd wrapped in my red Victoria's Secret panties. The smell was wretched -- the steaming turd had been left in the bathroom all night with the door closed. My mom says to me with tears streaming down her face, "What is the meaning of this? You are supposed to be an adult now, and your Father finds THIS????"
Well, what does one say when the woman who changed my poop-filled diapers up 'till the age of two is forced to go through the same thing on the very day that her daughter has "grown up?" I just laughed, which seemed to just piss her off even more, and began to clean up my own feces. It was one of the most disgusting things I have ever had to do, and the smell lingered to remind me of this feat all day.
-- Susan