Gather round the Computer kids. It's story time

Let me tell you about the time I crapped myself at work. Twice. In one week. Actually it was twice in 8 days. Consecutive Fridays to be specific.

I was sitting at my desk on an uneventful Friday. Fridays are slimmly populated. Not many people around. No committee meetings. It' s good day to get caught up or sneak out a bit early. The office was pretty-much empty. It was just me so I felt ok letting go of the gas. Why was I so gassy? Well since I was not pregnant I can't use that as an excuse. I wasn't feeling particularly bad. I didn't eat anything out of the ordinary. I have no excuse. I guess I'm just a gassy gal. Anyhow, being all alone I didn't feel it necessary to hold it in.

A little while later one of the staff comes by to introduce the new administrator. I notice that the new administrator kind-of stinks. I think she must have her period or something. Poor woman. And then I noticed that she is wearing white pants. Hmm. Interesting choice for woman on her period. I feel bad for her but understand.

Later I take myself to the bathroom and WTF? What I thought was just gas had a sneaky co- pilot a little more in the liquid/solid category. Not a lot. My sanitary napkin (do they still call it that?....seems like a old-lady term) caught most of it. I was able to clean myself up and left work about 30 mins early.

Not big deal other than the two women who came to my office must have noticed it smelled bad.
"It can happen to anyone", I told myself. Reassured myself that if they did notice they'd probably not remember it. Laughed becasue I thought the stink was coming from someone else when it was really me. Vowed to be a little more careful next time.

A week latter I was up to my old tricks. I thought surely lasts week's incident was an outlier that would not happen again. I was so very wrong.

Again with the nobody in the office except for me. Again with the gas. Had I learned nothing? Well I was about to really learn my lesson.

So I'm farting away and then I feel it. It felt like a huge liquid bubble exploding up the back of my pants. I immediately grab my keys and start to make my way to the staff bathroom. I can feel wetness. Lots of wetness.

I'm trying to hustle but I don't want to run or anything. Don't want to call attention to myself in case anyone could see me. I don't want to be seen running to the bathroom becasue that would be embarrassing. But then I feel it starting to run down my thigh. So I pick up the pace. I see it getting to my knee and now I'm really moving. I rather be seen running to the bathroom than be seen with crap dribbling down my leg. It's an easy choice if you think about it.

Had I been wearing pants like a self-respecting adult I would have been fine but I was wearing shorts. I assure you they were work-appropriate Bermuda shorts. I can totally pull that off but I wont any more because the shorts were ruined and I had the throw them out.

I got the the bathroom just before the shit hit my shoe. It was way too much to clean up. My shorts were completely stained up the back. I used almost all the toilet paper. I did the best I could, went back to my office, closed up shop, and left. I used my very large purse to hide my backside which was very visibly soiled.

My car stunk for days and it took a scrubbing with bleach to get the smell out of the seat.

So that's it. No moral to the story. Nothing redeeming. Not necessarily that funny even. Ok I think it's funny. My family loves these types of stories. I could listen to the time my Dad crapped himself while walking his Greyhound at the motor-home park everyday and not get sick of it. The mental imagine of my Dad running to the bathroom with butt cheeks clenched dragging his dog behind him throws me into fits of hysterics. If you have a Crapped Myself story I'm all ears.