Ok, so I was telling someone this story last night (no idea why I humiliate myself like this). I mean do grown men really poop their pants and then blog about it?
Sit down and relax, because this is the story of how I shit my pants on a date and successfully cut my underwear off while walking down Broadway in New York City.
Away we go. Let me transport you too a chilly winter night in the early winter. Must have been about 1998. I am living in Connecticut and decide to take a girl I was dating into the city for a night on the town. We enjoy a nice dinner at Gramercy Tavern (strange how many details I remember from this night). We are walking to a play (Rent..UGH) and I innocently try to slip a fart past a turd. Well, I failed miserably and propelled a liquidy stream down my right leg. (too much detail?) Thank the good lord for my 3/4 length suede jacket, which mostly hides the damage. While it isn't too obvious to others, I still have issues to deal with.
Great, now what? Not very romantic. As panic start to step in, I coolly collect myself and begin to formulate a plan. I will use my Swiss Army Knife to cut my underwear off! BRILLIANT! But wait, the keys jingling are going to give me away. So before I set about this operation, I remove the knife from the key chain. I open it up, slide my hand down the side of Gap Khakis.
Over the course of several blocks and 15 minutes, all while maintaining a conversation on how great the meal was, how awesome Savage Garden and BackStreet Boys are (hey its 1998) I proceed to cut my ALL-TIME FAVORITE BOXERS off. And no..despite discussing Backstreet and going to see Rent...I am not gay.
So anyhow, I am making progress. It takes another block while I shake, wiggle and shimmy until I smoothly expel the soiled underpants out my pants let and onto the sidewalk in front of a Chinese takeout restaurant (great marketing tool)! I look back longingly at my trusty (and slightly dirty) friends, and briefly wonder if I should fess up just so I can rescue them from the feet that will surely trample them (Honey, did you step in dog poo?).
Begrudgingly I forge ahead, all the while wondering if I will ever be able to replace them. Never once did my date figure it out. Believe it or not, I went on to marry this woman. In hindsight (poor word choice), I shoulda just told her I taken a dump on the sidewalk...would have saved me alot of money and trouble, since we were divorced after a coupla years.
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6 comments:
That just might be one of the better Crohn's related stories I've heard. Way to be all MacGyver in a 'sticky' situation. *heheehe*. What did you end up doing about your less than tidy leg? Find a restroom soon enough?
I'm amazed that your brain thought- "cut the boxers off"! And not, "find a washroom"!
Actually it was somehow self contained to the boxers...i guess i embellished a bit....but I KNEW there was no finding a restroom in NYC!
My 6 year old daughter was just dx a couple of weeks ago and I have been maniacally (sp?) reading all kinds of stuff. Now I have laughed at your blog - your blog not you :-) - until I am crying. Thanks for being willing to share some of the humor. It's just what a lot of us need!
Ahhh -- Crohn's and Dating! I've just located your blog and have really been entertained. This story of course drew me since I have once actually pooped ON my date.
After a Halloween party last year along with a little more alcohol than usually, followed up by an amorous night we eventually fell asleep. Sometime in the night I shot up like a light to clean myself off then to clean off the bed linens. I noticed a spot on my girlfriends leg. I woke her up while I was wiping her leg off!
Now that was humiliating!
Thanks for sharing.
Now THAT is freakin hilarous!
Love the story. But i can top it. A guy buddy of mine works for Vons and delivers groceries. The night before he ate something that didnt agree. He ended up pooping in his pants, never cleaning, and finished his truck route. Anyone out there want a grocery delivery ?!
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