A Shitty Day at Work





At work sitting at my desk watching youtube videos. My desk is in an office area right next to the kitchen, the main social hub of the company. It’s a large kitchen and the 'house moms' are always putting food out for everyone to snack on all day. There is generally anywhere from 5-25 people in this area at any given time during the day.

Completely bored, I open a can of Monster Energy to get me past the 3pm lull. As I drink it, I realize that I haven't shit in almost a week. This isn't too unusual for me but still, I think I should drink another can after this one to kick start my digestive system. Heavy doses of caffeine always does it to me. So now I'm half way thru my third can and my stomach starts to gurgle. Its been about 30 minutes since I started drinking these so I should’ve been paying closer attention to my stomach. Shit, its gurgling quite a bit. Yuuup, time to go.

I stand up and start to walk down the stairs and realize that I've waited too long. The bobsled is already on the track and it’s picking up velocity. I start to speedwalk to the bathrooms, which are about 80 feet away from my desk. About half way to the bathrooms I realize that this isn't a bobsled coming, its more of an avalanche of liquid week old shit and I need to squeeze my ass cheeks shut just to hold it in.

Ten feet away from the hallway door that leads to the bathroom I have to dive into my IT storage room that has only a curtain in front of it. Starting to sweat profusely I now have to squeeze my ass cheeks with my hands. Literally, the diarrhea is so close to coming out I am standing there holding my ass cheeks shut in a weird twisted trophy position like I'm the fucking hood ornament of a Rolls Royce. God I hope no one walks in here right now, please just let me wait this shit torrent out without anyone walking in on me.

And then it happens. It comes. Fast and furiously, hot runny pressurized shit starts shooting out of my ass into my pants. I feel it instantly on my hands. My pants are getting wet immediately because, like usual,  I'm not wearing any underwear. It takes me a half second to realize what’s actually taking place. "Fuck, I'm really shitting myself right now" So I start running, I throw aside the curtain, bust threw the door and run around the corner to the bathrooms, every step I am continuously shitting myself. I can feel it in my pants now because the ass area of my jeans is getting heavy.

Still running, I can now feel it dripping down my legs into my socks and shoes. My last attempt at any kind of dignity was to try to contain my liquid shit pool to the area of my pants above my legs. I grab my jeans at the legs, one hand on each inner thigh tightly gripping the jean material to provide some type of dam to the lake of shit in my upper pants.

By the time I get into the bathroom, I'm hunched over grabbing the inner thigh of my jeans hopping towards the stall screaming out "shit, shit, shit, shit" with each hop. And on each hop a little more shit squirts out.

Thank god no one is in the stalls. I bust open the door and turn around, all the while still shitting myself. I bend down so I can stop holding the inner thigh area of my jeans without the giant mudslide racing down to my socks, shoes and pant legs. So now I've freed up my hands to unzip and pull down my pants.

Shit. Gets. Everywhere. All over the seat, all over the floor, somehow I even got it on the walls and as I look back from where I just hobbled in I can tell my attempt to keep the shit from running down my jeans did in fact, not work. There is a trail of runny shit leading out of the bathroom. "I hope that trail doesn't lead all the way into the IT closet, I’d quit If I was found out"

So now, sitting there, still shitting, I finally get the courage to look down at my jeans that are pulled down to my ankles. I have an overflowing reservoir of shit in my pants. I stare at it for a second, and literally my first thought is "I cant wait to tell Shitass he isn't alone anymore". Its been five years since Shitass shit himself, and he finally has company. Apparently I need to be the center of attention so much I couldn't even let a friend hold that prestigious title of shitting his pants all to himself.

So there I am. Dripping in sweat, laughing, using gobbed up toilet paper to grab handfulls of liquid shit out of my pants and throw it into the toilet. If I had a 44oz Big Gulp 7-11 cup, it would have taken me probably two full scoops to get it all out. I must have flushed the toilet 20 times. Each time filled to the top with shit soaked TP and each time completely expecting it to flood and make my day that much better. 

It takes me about 30 minutes of sitting there, cleaning my jeans, the toilet, the floor and the stall before I am even ready to plan my escape from work. And boy does this need planning. I don't even have my car keys in my pocket. If I did I could sneak out the back door because it’s close to this bathroom. Oh well, such is karma.

So I stand up, my light blue jeans are now dark blue-ish brown in my ass area, down all the way to the back of my knees almost. Thank god I have a large dress shirt on, so I can leave it untucked to try and hide that. I need to somehow get to my desk, then to my car, without anyone seeing the huge brown wet stain on my jeans, or smelling the ass puke of someone who hasn't shit in a week. The bathroom fucking reeks like a septic system, and I need to leave quickly because I'm realizing how lucky I am that no one has come in during my stay here.

I make a break for it. Very calmly and casually I walk out the bathroom, and right out the back door. I’m walking along side the building now, completely composed and head towards the front door, it’s time, lets do this. I walk in, WOW, no one at the front desk, sweet! Walking past the front desk I notice there is no one in the kitchen, WOW this never happens, so I don't even think twice about seizing this opportunity. I start running. I run up to my office, grab the keys off my desk, and proceed to run out of the building. When I pass the front doors I throw both doors all the way open so they latch thinking hopefully the breeze will blow my shit smell to the back of the building before anyone realizes who just ran out.

Whew, I am totally home free. I’m in the parking lot, briskly walking to my mom’s car that I am currently borrowing. I start to laugh because now I can feel the now cold damp wet spots on my jeans touching the back of my legs on every step. I get to the car and the fucking valet guy has another car parked behind it. Fuck. I was so out of here. I yell at Gringo our valet dude "Hey Gringo, I gotta go holmes!".

He starts walking over, I am soooo close to escaping this nightmare that I wont risk letting one valet guy figure out what just happened, so I get in my car, roll the windows up and ignore him when he comes over. He knocks on my window and all I do is honk the horn and point to the car behind me. Usually I'm nice to Gringo and we hang out and chat. Not today. No way. This is the day everything has changed. I have shit all over my ass and legs and jeans and socks and shoes....I ain’t being nice to anyone. By 4pm, my nightmare is over and I get away.

Back at my house now, I get out of the shower I look at my jeans. I laid them out on the counter in a specific way so that none of the affected areas touch anything. In this position, my jeans look like a battlefield. I can't help but take a picture of it and text it to Shitass "you're not alone now fucker".


I roll up my jeans, socks and shoes and walk them two houses down the street and throw them in their dumpster. I'm not even going to take the chance that my roommates notice my shitty jeans and shoes in the trash if they happen to throw anything away this week.

Hell no, fuck that. I live with two hot chicks in the upstairs part of this Venice Beach house. Downstairs there is three more hot chicks and living in the houses next door are more groups of hot chicks. I am NOT going to have this reputation.

On my way back to the house I walk by mom's car and look inside. “Fuck, of course.” The lightly colored cream leather seat on the driver's side has a perfect brown outline of my ass. I've just stained my mom’s leather seats because I shit myself at work.

This is probably a good time to do one of those reflection moments and wonder where the fuck my life is going.

"Fuck it, that’s a tomorrow problem"

I went inside and hit the Jameson pretty hard reflecting on the day’s events. This is the best part of having a dog. No matter how much of a complete circus I am, he only lives in the moment, absolutely loving the fact that I am home early from work and he gets to lay on my lap and watch old Cheers episodes with me.

Friends and family wonder, sometimes adamantly, why I love my dog more than them…Malibu has never judged me.