At any rate, there was little else to do on campus, so my roommate and I decided we would head out to K-Mart to see if there was anything we could find to spend our parents' money on. As we strolled through the store, everything seemed to be normal... until about the time we rounded the corner near the "Home Goods" section.
That was about when my stomach began to churn and roll. It was as if a battle had begun and my guts were the fighting grounds. Hastily, and while trying to retain some ounce of dignity and femininity, I motioned to my roommate that it was time to leave. She ignored me, however -- obviously ignorant of the future events that were soon to pass if she did not adhere to my wishes and make a beeline for the door.
And that's when it officially became "too late" -- the mess of outdated, spoiled shit that the school had dished out for lunch decided to revisit me right then and there. And I do mean RIGHT THEN AND THERE. I rushed for the Layaway Department, knowing the restrooms are always in the furthest-most corner of the K-Mart.
As I weaved in and out of shopping carts, dodging old ladies and small children, a stream of highly flammable gas followed closely behind -- lethal enough to nauseate even the toughest of noses. Surely, the vapors streaming from my ass had to be leaving a trail of greenish colored smoke behind me as I continued to stagger down the aisles.
Just as time ran out, I made it to the bathroom and found before me two half-painted, broken down stalls, the doors barely hanging on and filth abounding... and from the stench, someone had recently had the same problem I was having.
While I lined the toilet with the almost transparent paper, my worst fears were confirmed -- I had used the last inch of paper to line the seat with. There was nothing, I repeat nothing, to wipe my now-pouring-diarrhea ass with!!
Just then I remembered that the one article I had decided to purchase (on Blue Light special, I might add) was still with me. "YES," I thought. "THE OVEN MIT!!!"
What better device to wipe my ass with then the soft, thick, cushiony cotton of an oven mitt?! It was like an answer to my prayers... a Godsend, right in the stall!
I will leave out the gooey details. Let's just say, I did not purchase that particular mitt.
-- Heather