Ahhh. Home safe and sound.
So after stopping to get gas, which came after the gym (chest and triceps!), which came after work, I headed to the supermarket to get stuff for dinner. Because I drink a lot of water at the gym, it's guaranteed that I'll be needing to pee when I hit the market. At the
So I unzip and whip it out, and... uh oh.
For the past few days, I've been having intestinal problems. And that seemed to hit a low point just then. When I did the big muscle release, I shit my pants. Quite unexpectedly, I assure you. Cutting off the flow of piss, I sort of danced from the urinal into the stall to clean up.
I know.... Eeeeeeew!!!
It was runny. Although not an unpleasant shade of ochre.
I debated just making a graceful exit without getting anything. But we really needed something for dinner. Inspecting in front of the mirror, I saw that indeed, I had a big wet spot on the seat of my pants. I was wearing loose cargo pants, so I did my best to arrange things so that my pants were bunched over my butt, and the telltale wetspot was concealed (mostly) in the folds.
I grabbed what was easiest, hot dogs and saurkraut, and made for the checkout line.
And sure enough, there was a woofy guy in front of me, and then another woofy guy got in line behind me. I did my best to act non-chalant.
I paid for my stuff and made for the door.
Once outside in the arctic chill, I felt a draft where I shouldn't. Looking down, I realized that my fly was wide open. And since I had my pants bunched up in the back, we're talkin' wide open. As in, arrestable.
I headed for my Jeep in the parking lot. Woofy guy, who was only getting a gallon of milk, was right behind me. And, it turned out, parked right next to me. At this point, I'm in a state of 'almost there-almost there-almost there...'
"Hey buddy," Woofy guy says to me, your gas cap is open.
And so it was. I had left the little door over the gas cap open when I stopped on the way.
"Thanks!" I called, closing it.
And I just had this... this... image of myself. Mr. Shitty Pants. Mr. Wide Open Fly. Mr. Leave Your Gas Cap Off. Buying hot dogs and saurkrauts.
Not, I guess, one of my finer moments.
And you thought I was such hot stuff, huh?