After David and I married in my home town, we quickly ventured out to Indiana so that we could start our doctorates of music at Indiana University. Since both of us love to be outdoors, we packed a tent and stayed at KOA’s rather than hotels. The first drive was somewhere in Wyoming and it was great. The second day David did most the driving and we ended up spending the night somewhere in the Midwest.
That night we popped up our tent and went to sleep on our aero bed. Things were great until one of those Midwest thunderstorms brewed up. Water was seeping into our tent and David had had enough. He said, “screw it! If I am not sleeping, I may as well be driving even if it is 20 miles per hour!” So, we pack up the tent, dried ourselves off and David drove all night in a horrible storm. Me? Slept like a baby.
The next morning, David looked beat. So, we stopped at a greasy spoon for breakfast. I had the works and so did he. It was my turn to drive. We started down the highway pulling a small Uhaul trailer behind us. Within 20 minutes, abrupt stomach pains fell into my lower abdomen. “I am going to shit my pants!” I yelled to David.
David calmly replied,” just take the next exit where there is a Mcdonalds.” Squeezing my gluteus maximus to the ultmate maximus I held on with dear life but realized it was going to get the best of me.
I swerved off the road, pissed off a lot of drivers behind me, pulled down my pants and exploded all over the side of the highway. I tried position myself in the most discreet possible place but as I was letting it rip I looked back, only to see that I was also in front of someone’s home.
This ass explosion wasn’t one that was satisfied after one squirt. This was a series of painful cramps followed by explosive diarrhea. As I was moaning in despair, David so kindly asked if I was okay and that he worried about me. Mind you, we were newlyweds. I said, “No, it hurts!”
The wind picked up blowing the fragrance of my ass towards David. “Oh my God! I am going to vomit,” David said coughing and dry heaving.
“I need toilet paper! Get me something.” I yelled. By this time the diarrhea subsided. However, I didn’t know what to do about the poop that saturated my shorts and underwear, traveled down my legs, and into my sandals…..yes I said sandals.
“There is no toiletpaper, or towel or anything!” he yelled back.
The inventory of our belongings ran through my head at light speed. “The wedding presents, the wedding presents! Get the tissue paper out of the wedding presents!” I hollered back.
So, I wiped myself up with tissue paper, donated my underwear to the highway (oops litter bug!) and David drove us to the Mcdonalds a half mile down the road.
“Well that’s one way to get out of driving.”said David.
When we finally settled in our new apartment, I wrote out thank you cards to all the generous people who showered us with wedding gifts.
“Dear Grandma, Thank you for the lovely gift. The dish is beautiful and thank you for wrapping it in such wonderful tissue paper. Love Leslie”
You and your ass. That story never gets old. Hahahahaaa!