Imagine if you will....
It's early December of the year 2000. My brother (the Ox from the eat-off videos) and I are living in a 5th floor penthouse apartment in downtown Salt Lake City, UT. Ox is moving back to New Jersey to be with his then-girlfriend (now wife) after about a year of complete drunken debauchery (yes, in Utah) and we're having one last send-off bar crawl for him. About 25-30 people have assembled at the apartment and we're striking off to hit 10 bars before last call. Everyone has been equipped with maps, the bars have all been contacted and are expecting our group and providing drink specials for us. Everyone is in festive spirits - everyone except me, that is. No, I'm not experiencing intestinal distress, I've just noticed my ex-girlfriend standing in the corner of the living room. An aside, for some brief backstory.
This gal, we'll call Kerry, is someone I met at a bar some 6 months prior. Not long afterward, we began a passionate but tumultuous "relationship" that lasted about 2-3 months before I was able to admit to myself that the girl was a raving loon with whom I certainly had no sort of future. The novelty of the new p---- had worn off by then, and I ended things. Without providing all the gory details, let's just say she didn't take it well. A couple of her close friends still hung out with my brother and me, as well as the rest of our group of drunken pirate friends, so every once in a while, she'd be around when we convened at certain bars and house parties. Always made for some uncomfortable moments, especially when she'd had too much to drink, but nothing too bad. There were a couple of nights where she ended up back at my place and despite my locking myself in the bedroom, she'd pick the lock and starting barking about this and that until I threw her out of the apartment. So, yeah, she was a little bit batty.
Anyway, she's lurking in the corner, but I don't mind all that much. There are so many people coming out that I figure it won't be too difficult to keep my distance from her. We all strike out and begin imbibing. For a couple of hours, everyone's having a great time, but then things start to take a turn for the worse. By about bar 5 or 6, Kerry is actively soliciting attention from basically every bartender and male patron of every bar we enter, in a futile attempt to make me jealous. The problem is that I GENUINELY do not give a rat's ### and further, am thrilled that she's devoting her attention elsewhere so I don't have to deal with her at all. Naturally, my indifference is fueling her fire and eventually, she starts handing out my address to these dudes, inviting them to a non-existent after party at my place. When I catch wind of this, now I'm actually annoyed, not because she's going to hook up with one or more dudes, but because she's now inviting throngs of people to my apartment. I live in perhaps the nicest building in the city, and the neighbors aren't going to take kindly to a 2 AM parade of horny guys marching up and down the hallway trying to get into my apartment. I pull her aside and tell her that no one is coming back to my place after the crawl, and kindly ask her to stop f---ing giving out my address and phone number to random strangers. Now, she's grinning ear-to-ear because she finally got under my skin. Awesome.
Flash forward about two hours. We're at bar 9 and suddenly, I feel a rumbling on my bowels. Nothing urgent, I think, but definitely something to keep an eye on. About 15 minutes and another beer later, I start sweating. Just as I'm questioning the wisdom of eating a burrito from the guy with the cart on the corner, it hits me. I go to DEFCON 1 faster than I even thought was possible. It's gone from troublesome to extreme desperation in the blink of an eye. My sphincter is spasming in rhythm with the strobe light in the bar as it desperately tries to hang on to this avalanche of diarrhea with which it's suddenly been confronted. I put my beer down and sprint to the bathroom........ only to see a line 12 deep to get in. Knowing I can't possibly wait, I begin to just walk past everyone on line, figuring I can always resort to the "it's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission" adage after the fact. However, even as I shove my way through the line, I realize the situation is hopeless. There's 1 urinal and 1 toilet in the bathroom, with someone urinating in each. Add to this, the toilet has NO barriers around it of any kind, and is facing the bathroom door directly, which is being propped open by the line of people waiting to get in. So, if I'm going to do this, I'm going to have to drop trou and then drop wolfbait in full view of a line of disgruntled customers, whose places in line I just usurped. This isn't going to work, and I have mere seconds to figure out what to do. I turn on my heels and run out of the bar onto the main drag of downtown SLC as I contemplate my options.
I run out and the plaza outside the bar is mobbed with people, as it's roughly 11 PM on a Saturday night downtown. There are people everywhere. I start frantically looking around for somewhere to leave this ungodly deposit and I see nothing. Not a restaurant, a public toilet, anything I can access quickly, and I have no time to think it through. I choose a direction and begin walking and it happens. I feel a blast of liquid escape into my boxers. I realize now that all is lost and my motive shifts from finding a bathroom to finding someplace that will simply shield me from the gaze of my fellow barflies so I can crap on the sidewalk. In full panic mode, I run behind a large concrete structure that looks like a big salad bowl, about 4 feet high, in which are planted about 6-7 trees. This gets me at least out of sight of the vast majority of the crowd, but there's one guy and his girl standing back there smoking cigarettes. As I stare at them, trying to figure out what to do, the floodgates open and about a gallon of liquid s--- pours out into my slacks. The girl turns around and I'm staring right into her eyes as molten lava runs down my legs, onto my socks, and into my shoes. At this point, all is lost, so in order to relieve the unbelievable pressure in my abdomen, I abandon all dignity and simply stop fighting. All I have left is the relief that comes when the mother lode makes its way out. It's now pooling around my feet and at this point, the happy couple figures out what's going on. The girl shrieks in horror and runs away while the boyfriend begins laughing harder than I think I've ever seen a human being laugh. He looks at me, and all I can muster is : "Dude...." before he runs out after his girlfriend and starts yelling : "Hey !! Some guy's s--tting his pants back here !!!!"
Now, the deed is done, and the pain is over, but I have no idea what to do. I'm standing in the epicenter of a fair-sized US city with a load of s--- in my pants, dripping out onto the sidewalk, and Tom Brokaw here is spreading the word at top volume into the street. I have no choice but to get the hell out of there, so I quickly get my bearings, figure out in which direction my apartment is located, and simply begin sprinting home, splashing feces behind me as I go. The whole block had to have looked like a Jackson Pollack painting. I ignore the catcalls of those who have seen me and pieced together the fact that I'm the guy who just s--- himself and manage to get away from the bright lights of downtown and off to a side street, which at least gives me a modicum of cover. I'm running as fast I can towards home base, when the unthinkable happens.
Just when I think I might get away, a car pulls along side of me and slows down to match my running pace. Praying it isn't a cop, I turn to the left and realize it's four of my female co-workers who are leaving the crawl a touch early and are heading home. All of them are hot, by the way. I hear a window rolling down and a voice saying : "[EG] ! What are you doing ?!" Having no idea what to say, I yell out : "I just have to run home for a minute !" They pull over in front of me and say : "Well, hop in, we'll give you a ride..." I have no clue how to respond to this; for what reason would I decline a ride? It's about 14 degrees out to begin with. My only saving grace is that I realize they couldn't possibly have noticed the giant brown stain that covered the entire back side of my lower body. I can't run by them now, otherwise they might see it, so I stop and angle myself so they can only see the front of me. "Ahh, no, that's OK, I didn't get a workout today and I kind of like this cool air. I want to run it out.." "Don't be silly, come on" Brandy says as she scoots over in the back seat, leaving room for me to park my crap-soaked buttocks. Now, I'm really at a loss, so I do the only thing I could think of. I take a few sideways steps away from the car and then sprint down the nearest alley to get away. I can see the looks of sheer confused disbelief as they watch me do this, and then I'm gone. As I reach the end of the alley and prepare to double back and get home, I can see the car full of broads now creeping down the streets, looking for me down the alleyways. I duck behind a dumpster and wait for them to pass before springing out and heading back in the other direction. I feel like Emilio Estevez in "Judgment Night" as I duck and dodge, trying to get away from a car full of babes, while spraying diarrhea everywhere.
Eventually, I lose them, and figure I'll come up with an excuse for my behavior on Monday; it's not my primary concern at the moment. After 15 minutes of cat and mouse, I get back to my building, eschew the elevator (too risky) and begin the sprint up 5 flights of stairs to my apartment. I get in undetected, jump into the shower with all my clothes on, and turn it on. While in the shower, I strip down, kick everything I was wearing into the corner of the shower, and scrub my body, gagging and retching the entire time. Ultimately, I get cleaned up, climb out of the shower, find a garbage bag, and scoop up all my soiled, wet clothes with it. I change and run down the hallway to the garbage chute and throw everything down it.
A few minutes later, my cell phone rings. It's the Ox, wondering where I went and why I left my expensive wool overcoat in the bar. I ask him to bring it to bar 10 and I meet the group there, having wolfed down two Imodium tablets and run back to where they were headed. My brother notices I was wearing different clothes, so I make up a story about the guy next to me in the bathroom throwing up and it splashing onto my shirt and slacks. That, you see, is why I had to go home and change ! He buys it, no one else says a word, and I'm home free.
To complete the evening, this girl that I work with who had a crush on me for months was loaded out of her mind and openly flirting with me when I get to bar #10. She's climbing all over me, and I'm having to essentially hold her upright. Just then, I notice that Kerry is still with the group, and now she's pissed. She thinks I'm doing this to aggravate her and make her jealous, and she goes off in the middle of the bar.
"How DARE you hook up with that f---ing SLUT in front of me, you piece of s---, rotten SOB !!!" blah blah blah.
She's so loud and so angry, that at this point, I notice a circle of about 20 strangers has formed around us, watching the goings-on. I'm trying to tell this lunatic that this girl is falling over drunk, and that the reason she's in my arms at the moment is because I'm keeping her from hitting the floor. She's not having it and then endless stream of epithets is unbroken until...
***WHAM***
She slaps me across the face as hard as she can. It was enough to make my eyes water. The crowd gasps : "Ooooooooh !" as Kerry storms off, out of the bar, and out of my life forever as it turned out. I never saw her again. The girl in my arms looks up and says at conversational tone :
(slurring) : "That bithc.... just take me back to my hotel, I want to (assorted sexual things I can't type at FBG)" I clamp a hand over her mouth and look up to see some random bloke standing next to me, staring at me as if I'm Jesus Christ.
"Dude........... niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice..................."
He shakes my hand as I begin to head for the door, and suddenly, the crowd begins to applaud and whistle as I reach the exit. The applause builds and I'm literally walking out to a standing ovation. I extend one hand over my head and give a thumbs up like an injured football player being carried off on a stretcher as the cheering reaches a crescendo - then out into the night. I drag this girl two blocks to her hotel and get her up to her suite, when I realize she's sharing the place with the 4 girls that offered me the ride earlier. As I fumble for something to say to them when they invariably ask me what the hell I was doing, I walk into one of the bathrooms and realize that one of them is in the hot tub, naked. She spins and looks up at the two of us. I turn to exit, when drunk girl in my arms grabs me and stops me from leaving. "It's cool..........." she purrs.
That's right, boys and girls, I ended up having one of the VERY few 3-ways of my lifetime that night. In the hot tub, near the hot tub, in the bed, on the table, etc. etc. Not more than 60 minutes after I stood in the road unloading a waterfall of crap into my own pants. It just goes to show that a little resourcefulness and a lot of alcohol can turn a nightmare into a dream come true if you just ride it out.
Every single detail of this story is true, the names have simply been changed/obscured to protect the innocent.