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My Crappy Night

02/03/2014 by C.

That someone was almost me!

That someone was almost me!



I am a woman very set in my ways. Typically, I grocery shop every Saturday morning at Wal-mart. This past Thursday the weatherman was forecasting ice and snow for Saturday morning, so I decided to go to a nicer, more expensive store after work Thursday (because I won’t even attempt to go to Wal-Mart after 9 am) so I could get my shopping for the week over with.

I had exactly three items in my cart when a sharp pain in my stomach halted me.

Noooooo, surely I don’t need to shit. 

I took two more steps and was in the middle of trying to make a decision about which brand of chocolate chips to buy when it hit again.

Idiot…MOVE. You are going to shit your pants in this nice grocery store if you don’t. 

I white-knuckled the cart and slowly made the attempt to cross the entire store to get to the restrooms, clamping down on those butt cheeks to hold it in.


I am in a full on jog at this point and sweating.  I made the turn for the long stretch home and who do I see??? Two cheerleader bitches I went to high school with and their handsome husbands. I put on the brakes and tried to look casual. I am pretty sure I have shit creeping out of my ass.

It occurred to me what I was wearing, my old man cardigan with a crappy t-shirt underneath, blue jeans and my old lady tennis shoes. Lovely. Of course the cheerleader bitches look like they had just come from the salon.

OMG that reminds me. My hair was in a faux hawk because the ladies at work told me my hair looks best like that. I will never listen to them again! Have you put this picture together yet???? Grandpa cardigan, mom jeans, old lady tennis shoes and the haircut of a twenty-year-old punk rocker. Of course no handsome hubby by my side to distract the attention away from me.

Oh, no…a fart just slipped out!  Awesome. That’ll teach them for standing out in the middle of the aisle chatting. 

I abandoned my cart down an aisle and ran my ass into the bathroom praying I would be all alone. Thank God for small miracles.

Maybe I can just sit in here until they leave. I can’t be in the same checkout lane with them after unleashing the fart bomb in their faces. 

So I sat and played on my phone. Sent several text messages to friends and family.

“Hey…almost shit my pants at Harps!”

I sat for a very long time waiting for a response. Finally got one back…

“Why would you text me about this???”

My big fat fingers accidentally clicked the number of one of my friend’s mom.

I am guessing I won’t get anymore invites to have dinner with that family.

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