I work outside most of the year, and I can't tell you how many t-shirts have lost their sleeves due to a fast-processed lunch!! But I do have a good story to contribute ..
I'm at a downtown bar, drinking with some friends. I was out late the night before so was feeling pretty rough to begin with. The bar we're at serves pretty decent food and I hadn't eaten all day due to the queasiness from my hangover, so I decided it was in my best interest to woof something down just to have something in my stomach. I ate a wonderful quesadilla and continued on with some beers and conversation. During this time, we run into some ladies that we've known from earlier but haven't seen in awhile, and make introductions between ourselves and a couple of friends they had with them. I hit it off right away with one of the friends and we chatted for a good half-hour before I got "the hit".... I'm right in mid-sentence when I just stop talking and my ass locks up like Fort Knox. Whew! Luckily I got by with no leakage.
Unfortunately, I knew this was one of those things that was not going away anytime soon. This bar is in an older building, and is more of a long hallway type bar, being about 15-20ft wide and very deep. As a result, the bathroom is very small, with just one urinal and one stall (with no door, no less) and a HELL of a lot of people. I knew the bathroom was not feasible. So, faking illness, I excused myself outside for some fresh air. Since it's in the downtown area, the only parking is in various alleyways around the area. I find the darkest one I can about half a block down, and by this point, I'm literally sweating. With no suitable place to do the deed, and time becoming extremely obsolete, I got between two cars and leaned up against the darker one. That was T H E grossest 'movement' I've ever had - I can see why there is water in toilets now. It looked ten thousand times worse than the fake homeless-guy poop on the Dave Chappelle show. I cleaned up with a bandana that I had in my back pocket and made my way back to the bar, checking carefully for onlookers.
While public pooping was nerve-racking, I didn't get any on myself at least. But it didn't end there. I proceeded to go back to the bar, continue chatting, and again hitting it off very well with the girl from before. We exchanged numbers and made plans to hook up again before the night ended. She even noticed my *missing bandana*.
Turns out, I wish she never would have. It was HER car that my bandana, and my utterly foul pile of crap, was laying against. Needless to say, not much came of that hookup!
