Although I risk a great friendship, and much more, by telling this story, I feel I have a duty to society that I must fulfill. The least I can do at this point is not disclose the name of the person to whom this happened. Nevertheless, I insist that this story is true.
Let me begin by saying that there are some things in life that one should always remain in complete control of, such as one’s bowels.
Bob was a very good friend of mine who had a knack for cooking. One day, upon returning from a long journey in Europe to visit his girlfriend, Bob was cooking a wonderful prawn curry for his darling sister and his lovely mother. For anyone who knows anything about cooking, this meant that Bob had to first cook the prawns. At this point, Bob became very hungry, which as we all know is a cook’s worst enemy. Bob could not even wait for the prawns to defrost before he devoured well over half of them. He initially felt no effects, except perhaps mild satisfaction.
However, this early sentiment was short lived. In a couple of hours, Bob had completely evacuated by oral means all traces of the prawns from his system. For the next 24 hours or so, Bob’s digestion was extremely uneasy at both ends, as he had to rush to the washroom every couple of hours at very little notice.
However, Bob was heading eastward in a couple of days time, so he decided to stay true to his word and take his mother and sister out to dinner.
It is one thing to lose control of one’s bowels in the privacy of one’s home. It is another to lose control of such things in public, and upon uttering “I fear the worst” to his sister, Bob did just that. A look of sheer agony appeared on Bob’s face as everyone’s worst nightmare filled Bob’s underpants. Yes, he had shat his pants.
Just as it seemed matters couldn’t get any worse, Bob discovered the washrooms were up a set of stairs, and were not individual rooms that could be locked but rather the public kind with rows of stalls. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, so Bob instinctively took his shirt off and stuffed it in the crack of the door in hopes that this would prevent anyone from entering the washroom. He then proceeded to remove all other clothing. Bob stood there in the nude, looking for means to clean himself. Toilet paper, the first and most obvious choice, is great for small clean-ups. But Bob was not a small man and the damage far exceeded any assistance toilet paper could have provided. The sink was the only way to go.
Sitting up there, a small water current running down the crevasse of his behind, Bob felt a great relief until a gentleman entered, struggling only slightly with the shirt blocking the way. You can imagine this poor man’s surprise when his eyes fell upon quite a large naked man sitting on the sink. The expression ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ was coined for precisely this situation.
Although Bob must have been able to somewhat foresee this chain of events, one can never truly prepare for a moment like this, and so Bob found himself greeting the gentlemen with a “Good evening, sir,” and after a small moment that allowed them both to fully gauge the situation he continued with “Can you please give me a moment?”
Ladies and gentlemen, our tale ends soon after: Bob left the establishment quicker than you can say “prawn curry.” Indeed, he will most likely never return. Nor will he likely eat prawn curry for quite some time. Nor will he likely be speaking to me anytime soon. However, I do hope you have enjoyed this story and that you’ve learned whatever lessons can be drawn from this unfortunate tale.