Tag Archives: houston texas

I pooped my pants on a business trip.

For the first time I’ve let my new coworkers in on my secret blog. Why the secret? Oh, I don’t know… maybe because I’m writing stories about farts, female facial hair, and now “poop”. All of these stories so far have been from my childhood. No worries, we’ll be back there soon. This one is from a working mutha. Actually working in a respectable company, respectable pay, respectable title. Doing disrespect-able things.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never done anything dishonest during my career. Just stupid. In honor of my new co-workers who have travelled away from home, saw new places, venture out on their own, and ate bad Chinese food… This one’s for you.

This was my second travelling job, my first two were with oil companies. I have actually been quite the traveller, pinning places like New Orleans, Odessa Texas, and Oklahoma City. On this particular trip, I was in the amazing wonderment of Dallas Texas. I wasn’t even in Dallas, I was actually in Arlington. I’ve lived in Texas all my life and this was actually the first time I’ve been to Dallas. I flew Southwest and checked in to the suggested hotel. La-freaking-Quinta. It wasn’t horrible, but come on–it’s LaQuinta. They wanted us to stay there because it was like 50cents a night, and close enough to either walk to the office or grab the LaQuinta minivan.

After my first day of work at the Dallas Office, I decide to cut out early. I was tired and just wanted to sit by myself and relax. I hitched a ride back to the hotel and scoped out restaurants on the way that were in walking distance from my room. I saw PeiWei – SCORE.

If’ you’ve ever eaten at PeiWei, you know that everything comes in servings of two, but most of us fat Americans go ahead and eat both servings. I preordered and went to pick up my meal(s) and take them back to my room where I could watch tv and pig out. That I did.

Now that I’ve stuffed myself, it was all of like 6:00. There would be sunlight for a good 3 more hours, so I decided to take a walk. I have no idea what I was thinking. I’m not a walker… and here I am “exploring” freaking an Arlington strip center like it was Fifth Avenue in New York. Texas isn’t made for walking. The intersections are 18Miles wide, cross walks don’t really work, and store parking lots are about 20miles long to get from store to store.

So I’m in and out of dumb retail stores I could care less about, pretending to enjoy myself, but really I just ate too much Chinese food and needed to walk around. My stomach grumbles and immediately turns into 150degrees of sickness. I panic. I need a rest room quick. I am looking all around, no restaurants (restaurants MUST have public bathrooms). I’ve walked in the complete opposite direction of PeiWei and all the other restaurants on the planet. For some reason I walked in the direction of nothingness.

I’m about to die. I’m afraid I won’t make it, I’m doubled over in pain, and soon to be agonizing embarrassment. I’m wearing long, wide-leg jeans and a long sleeve shirt. It’s not cold, but it’s what I had going on. I was already sweating from walking and now from the possibility of shitting my pants. As fast as the wave came over me, it was gone. Whew.

I stand up straight, wipe the sweat from my brow and leave the store unsoiled.

Luckily, there was a Baskin Robins right around the corner, just one more intersection over. Remember, one block over in Texas means a freaking continent. I weigh my options of going directly back to the hotel, and making it *just* to the BaskinRobins. Baskin’s would have a restroom to use, I’d be relieved of all worries, and plus–now I wanted ice cream.

I made it. I opened the ice cream parlor door and the cool air rushes over me, ahhh instant relief. Luckily, the little storefront was semi-busy and no one would notice me going to blow out the bathroom. This is not something I’m proud of mind you. I am not one to talk about poop, or discuss it for any reason. That’s what makes this story so horrifying to me.

I reach for the knob to open the doors to the heavily thrown in which would relieve me of my PeiWei contamination boiling in my stomach. Shit. It won’t open. Guy from behind the counter yells at me of the line of people, ‘Sorry it’s out of order.’ Clearly, a recent PeiWei patron made a visit.

Oh gosh… the thought of walking all the way back to the LaFreakingQuinta was killer. But now, I’m staring at the ice cream, looking outside at the window, thinking of my hot walk back to the hotel. I needed ice cream. I was about to loose 15lbs anyway. The thought of ice cream is actually starting to make my stomach settle. Maybe that’s all it needed?

My stomach and I decided I needed chocolate ice cream in a waffel cone. I expensed my delight and head back for the hotel.

The ice cream was amazing, but I had to eat it much faster than I wanted because it was so hot outside, and was starting to drip all over my hands. I looked like a second grader, I was a mess. The feeling hits again. Stomach on fire. This time, my entire body is sweaty, any crease in my body is covered in salty sweat (except for my hand which was covered in chocolate-and sweat).

I’m two intersections away from LaQuinta potty. It’s almost exciting. But now, it’s getting worse. I might die, literally. I’m shuffling as fast as I can. I’m still eating that damn ice cream. I could have thrown it on the ground. I have no idea why I didn’t. My legs can’t move in great strides, I’m afraid I’ll loose the precious gluteus-maximus-vault-like muscle tention I had built up during this ordeal. Ice cream in one hand, wiping sweat off my face with the other, my wide leg pants are now about three sizes larger than they were, I’m having to hold one of the pant legs up like a skirt. The LaQuinta is in site! It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

On my journey back, I’ve already decided I can quickly go in the side door facing the parking lot and not have to go all the way around the front. My room would be on that side of the building. Success! I swiped my key card to enter the door, ahhhh that cold air conditioning rushes over me again. It didn’t provide the same relief as last time, but I was hot sweaty, and this was certainly welcome.

The feeling is worse, I’m about to explode. I decide it’s a good idea now to break into stride. I need to run up those stairs and dash into my room, FAST. The stairs were a little wider and a little less steep than normal stairs, I think LaQuinta was trying to be fancy. Who cares. I was on the second floor and I needed to get their in a hurry.

Mid way through the flight of stairs my life pauses and begins turing in slow motion.

I trip over my now sweat soaked wide leg pants, I trip. My arms are flung in the air, my chocolate ice cream and waffel cone slams and splatters on the stair way. I reach out my other hand to try and catch myself, I lost all balance, all sense of self respect and had lost any control over my bowels. Yes, I shit my pants.

This all happened in slow motion mind you…To me, it feels like it took about four minutes to complete that choreographed fall. Horrified.

I jump up, leave the crime scene and run to my room where I have to strip off heavy blue jeans, and shower. Hot steam shower. I would have used bleach if I had any. If you crap your pants, just know it’s not easy to remove your pants without the bathroom looking like a mental ward of some sort.

What I’m really afraid of, is that that stairway was on video, and I’ll end up on YouTube and then on Tosh.0 or somewhere horrible. “Fat girl falls on stairway, loses chocolate ice cream waffel cone and craps her pants”. haha. Wouldn’t that be funny? No. No it would not. That poor girl was horrified, left the giant poop-colored-chocolate mess, and never returned to that hotel again.