To the cute girl standing behind me in the checkout line at Ralphs,

I’m sorry I shit my pants and you had to bear the smell. Thank you for not saying anything. You were a great sport.

It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. I was walking to Ralphs to buy some groceries for dinner when all of a sudden outside in the parking lot I had one of those rare moments. You know the kind, when you feel a load coming on so bad you have to stop and squeeze your cheeks together to keep it in. Well, it didn’t work this time. A good half load oozed out into my Banana Republic boxer briefs. I wasnâ’t sure at first, but then I lightly padded my butt like a mother checks to see if a baby needs changing, and sure enough: I pooped myself.
The logical thing would have been to make the uncomfortable walk back to my apartment, shower, and journey out again.
I didn’t.

I figured I was already there and walking the three blocks back to my apartment was probably the equivalent of walking up and down the aisles of Ralphs. If I was going to wallow around in my own feces, I might as well accomplish my original mission while doing so. Walking through the frozen food section, I imagined this was probably a sensation I hadn’t experienced since diapers. I had a little extra weight I was carrying around and there was a little mushy texture around my taint. However, I had it under control and went about my shopping.

Then the smell hit me.

Oh, it was bad. This wasn’t something that could be passed off as a fart. This was poop. I started shopping more quickly, grabbing cans and produce off the shelves as I waddled down the aisles. After filling up my basket, I headed for the checkout line. But oh no! There was a huge line at every checkout counter. I considered abandoning my mission all together and making a run for it, but then I remembered how hungry I was. I decided to risk it and picked the line with the little old lady, figuring if anyone smelled anything, it would be blamed on her Depends.
Then you came along and got in line behind me.

Of course you had to be the cutest girl I’d seen in weeks and this would have been the perfect opportunity to pick you up had I not just soiled myself. And of course I was wearing the pair of Diesel jeans that make my ass look great: except at this moment the tight rear end was totally working against me because I had a load in my shorts! We made eye contact and you grinned. You thought I was cute too. For a brief second I thought maybe you knew (and understood). You found my awkward predicament funny and strangely charming in a childish sort of way.

But you didn’t.

The smell hit you too. By this time the checkout lady was scanning my items across the counter and the little old lady was gone. You knew I was the source of the stench. Then the checkout lady didn’t know the price of a bulb of fennel I was buying and had to do a price check. You bore the smell for even longer. I’m sorry. Thank you for not saying anything. I totally understand why you just couldn’t take it anymore and pretended you forgot something on your shopping list as you hurried out of line. I don’t usually pinch loaves in my pants. I’m actually really cool. If you want to go for coffee some time and try this encounter again, please hit me up.
-the guy who shit his pants at Ralphs

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