Seeing the slur of "list" threads latily (Best Cities, Worst Cities, etc) I thought of another one that could potentialy include some funny stories; Your Most Uncomfortable Situation.
As most of the users here, including myself, are anonymous, this is the perfect place to share that really embarrassing moment or situation.
I'll start with one of my own moments-you-just-wanted-to-die
Now a word of caution to the members who are cursed with a weak stomach, this story involves poo, lots of it. So if you don't like that, you have been warned. Otherwise have some fun at my expense
It will also be a bit long, sorry for that!
This happened almost exactly two years ago. Easter Monday 2009, a day off in the Netherlands. That morning I was helping a friend paint his new appartment. It was still completely empty and we took out all the doors inside so we could paint everything. After an hour or so I got some indications from the engine room in my stomach that a major event was up coming. We went out the night before and concluded the evening with massive amounts of Kebab. But hey, I was only staying until lunch time or so. After a quiet internal risk assesment I concluded that I could make lunch time, drive to the supermarket, do groceries quickly and drive home, there I would annihalite my own toilet. I'd rather destroy my friends toilet, but I kinda need a door.
So around 1pm I walked, still in a relaxed manner, to my brand spanking new bastard of a Peugout 206.
A month before I received a new and permanent contract at my job. This new contract also included a small car of my own choice. I chose the great Suzuki Swift Sport - Pocket Rocket Edition. Unfortunatly, because it's an awesome little car, there was a six month waiting list. So to cover that period the leasing company thought it was a good idea to give me a Peugout 206. I hate French cars. No, wait, actually, French cars hate me and my family. Every time a family member of me owned a French car they had huge problems. My Dad's Renault 25 drivers seat broke free while on the highway.
And now it was my turn....
The drive to the supermarket would take 10 minutes, from the supermarket to my house another 10 minutes. I can easily make it.
I entered the supermarket and immidiatly noticed that my previous risk assesment would need some tweaking. It was busy, I mean bat-shit-crazy busy. Also the engine room was giving of some worying mixed signals.
I walked, in a slighty less relaxed manner, through the supermarket. Grabbing products, forgetting most of them. The wait in line to pay featured an exponential growth of warning bells and whistles in the "nether region".
The walk to my temporary French insult to the automotive industry was done using butt-cheek-compression at max. levels. People in the know could have easily recognized my urgently-need-to-poo walk.
I pull open the door and enter the well designed drivers position (granted, the French are ergonomic experts). Slamming the key in the ignition, stomping my foot on the clutch and janking the gear lever in reverse.
Now, why don't we slow the passage of time at this exact moment. A lot will be happening in the next few seconds!
In those few seconds I was educated about the gear lever connection to the rest of the car. Seemingly an area where Peugout could improve things. I can't even begin to describe the thoughts racing through my head while I saw the gear lever in my hand, completely separated from the car. For some bizar reason the first thought that sticked long enough to consiously remember was "ow no biggy, I'll drive home first and deal with it there", the second thought was "I REALLY need to poo!!!", and the third thought was "IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO
DRIVE LIKE THIS!!!".
Now those of you that have been to the Netherlands know about the lack of public toilet facilities. As a man you can piss everywhere, but going number two almost seems illegal.
This is crunch time people! This situation needs to be resolved, QUICKLY!!!
There were two crucial things I needed to do;
- Call the Emergency number of the leasing company to get a replacement car (which normally takes a few hours)
The big question was in what order those actions would be carried out.
I choose to call the leasing company first, in case a public toilet could not be located I would at least know rescue would be under way. Luckily it was a quick ordeal, no waiting. "what's the problem?", "where are you?", "a tow truck will be there in 15 minutes". Great, one down, number two to go!
After a quick scan of my surroundings I selected an actual Amsterdam coffeeshop. A place where you can, semi-legally, buy and smoke pot. I've been there before when I was a student and I would expect stoners to be understanding to my little "situation". The downside was that this place is tiny, twenty stoned people in an extremely small room.
- "ow yeah sure dude"
The feeling of relieve flowing through my body signaled the onset of sensations I can only describe as contractions. I was actually in the first stage of the male equivelant to child birth.
I positioned my self in the extremely small toilet, sat down and entered a world of new experiences. And that at age 28! The first few minutes quotes from the likes of Star Trek flew through my mind.... "To Boldly Go...etc"
My head must have looked like a water soaked spunch being squeezed. Pearls of sweat started to populate my forehead. And the actual stretching was incredible, I never knew some body parts could be so flexible. Five minutes into labor, while the head was just popping out (mind you, that only signals the shoulders are coming!), my cell phone started playing a catchy tune. Mmhh, unknown mobile number
, could be the tow truck...
I still wonder what the guy at the other end was thinking when I answered.
- "eeuh, hey, I'm XXXXX from Athlon, I'm at your car with the tow truck"
-"eumm, yeah, I'm here, blue Peugout right?"
"MMMGGIVE ME FIVE MINUTES"-CLICK
Why, in the name of all that is Holy, must my first experience with road side assistance be a good one?!
I seriously had my hands firmly placed on both walls, feet slightly lifted from the floor, and a look on my face that not even my mother could love. During this moment I also started to notice the incredibly rich bouquet of smells originating from the gates of Hell. Holy crap (no pun intented), in the not too distant future I have to open this door, an ad hoc portal to Great Embarrassment. Weed changes the senses in a big way, but for some reason Smell is not affected at all....
After a surprisingly low amount of toilet papers (and yes, there was rectal bleeding), but an extraordinary large amount of flushes later I was ready to face my demons. At this point the smell was so rich and thick, I could have sliced through it with a knife.
The door opens and the ghastly fumes acts like a real life Pandora's Box. Heads are turning immidiately and the tell tale signs of collective sniffing and disgust start to appear.
These are the moments to be pro-active, it's the only way to stop the ever increasing level of embarrassment.
Luckily it was a good crowd for the most part, some laughed, others were on the brink of walking away or throwing up.
I laugh about it now, but at that time and place I wished I could just dissolve into thin air
- "You ok?" - the tow truck guy asked
"Well I just gave birth" - I jokingly said, not realising I had to spend twenty minutes next to him driving to the garage...
[Edited 2011-04-22 11:04:52]