Everybody Poops

***This is a warning that the situation I'm about to recount is graphic, but so freaking hilarious I can't help but blog about it.
It's a fact that no one likes to admit because it's gross and it smells, but everyone emits a certain brown substance from the exit door at least once a day. Once in a while, when you eat something that disagrees with you, this activity becomes a bit more violent.

So, last night I was at Target trying to find fashion for a bargain, and all of a sudden I felt it. A huge shift from my stomach to lower abdomen to the exit door. That feeling that stops you in your tracks and makes you clench every muscle in your body out of sheer terror and embarrassment. Goddamnit. I knew that burrito wasn't non-dairy. I'm lactose-fucking-intolerant. Holy Shit I have to GO. Oh no! I'm at Target and I totally have diarrhea. Can I possibly hold it? Stomach shift. Stomach gurgle. Gas. CODE BROWN. We have entered CODE BROWN. I've gotta go. I high-tail it to the bathroom. Thank goddess it was empty. As any lady would, I took my place in the handicap bathroom at the end of the stalls. And, as any lady would, I kept a constant stream of flushing going to divert both sound and smell. But, as diarrhea isn't the most quick and convenient of bodily functions, nor does it ever smell like roses...well, let's just say it wasn't as comfortable as being in my own bathroom. Oh, but it doesn't end there. As I'm waiting and coaxing and wincing in pain, in walk the Loudmouth Sisters. "Oh shit, girl. Someone done stunk up this bathroom." "Sheeeiiit...shit smells in here." OHMYGOD. I'm red. I'm dying. I'm sorry, but I have diarrhea, bitch. "Damn, somebody ass ain't right, girl. Ass ain't right." You know what, it isn't. I'm lactose intolerant and I was fooled into eating a burrito I thought was dairy-free. So you're right. My ass ain't right. "Somebody ass done drop right into the toilet." Ok. Come on. It's not that bad. Granted I didn't have any room deodorizer or a nice smelling candle with me, but we're not talking destructo zone or porta potty. I was flushing a lot. It was at this point that I actually started laughing at the situation. I was a prisoner of my stall, and sure as hell wasn't showing my face to the Loudmouth Sisters, so what else was I to do in my 4x4 cell? Instead of making a comment, getting over it and moving on, the Loudmouth Sistas decide to wallow in the disgustingness of the situation. They decided at that very point there was absolutely nothing else they wanted to talk about than how much poop in a public bathroom smelled.
Then my humor turned to anger. Who the fuck did these girls think they were? What gave them the right to comment on the state of the bathroom with the obviousness of the guilty party still being in the bathroom. These girls need manners ASAP and I'm about to pontificate from the discomfort of my porcelain throne. I was building all my nerve to muster a witty, smart, make you feel guilt come back from the anonymity of my stall/cell.
Luckily, they lost interest or the smell waned and they continued discussing where they were getting their prom shoes and I realized they had A LOT of growing up to do. I was about to take the heads off two 18-year olds about poop? Nah. Better not teach the lesson in the bathroom.

Comments

[tdavis]

This is one of your best works yet!!!! We were beely laughing at this one. My lover and I totally connected with your account of a CODE BROWN incident and can completely relate to the need for multiple flushes to hide the sound of the moving bowels!

[RBrown]

Oh my God, I was crying. This one has to go on The Craziest of Virgo. Ass ain’t right just got added to my vocab.

I have a theory that Target is actually the root of all things Code Brown, not your non-dairy burrito. Think about it for a sec, seriously. It never fails, EVERY TIME I’m strolling through the Boot’s aisle at Target a Code Brown hits. I think Target emits something into the air. Perhaps there’s a study out there that Target is keeping hidden that shows a relationship between a clean colon and levels of spending? Whatever. Alls I know is my ass ain’t never right in that store.

[RBrown]

PS - what up with that HOT NEW PIC??? Did you decide that after revealing Code Brown you needed to sex up your blog?

Grrr, baby, GRRRRRR!!!!!

[Cityslicker mom]

That is seriously too funny! And I thought i was the only want that tried to mask the sound of pooping :)

[crazyvirgo]

interesting comment R.BRown. when i think back to my trips to target, you're absolutely right. 9 times out of 10 in the middle of a stroll through Isaac Miz i'm Code Brown. But afterwards I feel skinnier and more ready to buy that pair of pencil pants.
Woa.

[Tweets]

Oh seriously! I laughed OUT LOUD. And people are staring. Don't worry I'm saving you the embarrASSment of telling complete stragners that I'm laughing because your ass ain't right.

CODE BROWN. Lurve it! And Target is the devil!

[Tweets]

Love the sexy pic too! Is that a weave your hair?

[bitemycookie]

i am in a hipster coffee shop snarfing hot chocolate and croq monseiur over this tirade. indeed the craziest of virgo. you're a nutter.

[Mrs. Featherbottom]

I'm going to have to go with RBrown on this one. There's something in the air at Target. I never have to drop a deuce in public unless I'm shopping there. This has happened to many people I know, one actually shit their pants. We'll have to look into this...

[steveoh]

i'm a shitter.

[steveoh]

i'm a shitter.

[D-town]

So let me get this straight....woman poop? Fascinating.

[dutch from sweet juniper]

okay I was so grossed out by that that the new sexy pic isn't enough for me. I need to see a nice one of you shirt cocking just to get me back to normal with you crazyvirgo.

[howidiedtoday]

Hey, thanks for plugging my blog, but also for sharing your hilarious story. I just almost shit my pants in a hot-fucking-air balloon.

[Wing]

I agree with RBrown about Target. Not only adults but also kids encounter the same problems.

I ran into a friend with her 3-year old @ Target on time. They were standing in front of the shelf of Hallmark cards - standing, not moving at all. I went up to say "hi" and asked "how's Michael" (who is the dad). She told me the dad went to find a mop. As I look closer, the poor little boy peed on the floor and made a little pond.

You're lucky you could make it to the toilet.