“Damn man, I don’t think I’d told that”

A couple of days ago on Facebook Dave Hendrix shared a really funny story that was on the Modern Man page about a guy who in college was taking a Russian language class and really didn’t want to be there thinking it was a Spanish class he signed up for.  It starts off pretty funny then he goes in to the class taking a trip to Russia and getting involved with the Russian mafia.  Thanks Dave it was a great laugh.  This got me to thinking about a story I wrote for my gaming forum back in 2005 a few years after I arrived in Alaska.  I wanted to share it with you.

For those of you that know me, or have been around me over the years know that I like to share with you my little special stories. Those moments in your life that brings out that part of your personality or quirkiness that may not be seen most days or nights.

Most of you know that the nickname I have had for many years is Icewind which equals = cool farts.  It was better than “Bugle Butt” which my niece Laura gave me many years ago.  I loved the t-shirt she gave me which had a French horn blowing out the characters butt, quite funny but no one would let me wear that shirt out in public so it was an around the house t-shirt. 

(Disclaimer – I know that some times I tend to take the liberty of embellishing the facts in some of my stories for a humorous effect.  For the record, this is as close to 100% an accurate account of the event as I can remember)

I used to eat a lot of meat and spicy foods which gave me pretty active bowels and the sounds that came from me sometimes embarrasses people in my life.  One of the ways I have found over the years to keep my “noises” to a minimum is with frequent movement of my bowels.  I do not know if it is my OCD kicking in but I try very hard to stay on a schedule that allows me to only go to the bathroom in familiar places.  I mainly try to go at home and have gotten comfortable (out of necessity) to go at work but I do not like going while in public places if possible, meaning I like to crap exclusively on my own toilet unless it is absolutely an emergency.  Well this was and turned out to be a bigger emergency than I had planned for.

I left work and headed over to my friend Tom’s house.  We were going out to Gallos for a beer and a bite to eat.  We both arrived from work at his house about the same time but my friend wanted to take a quick shower and change clothes before we headed out.  This was no problem but while my friend was showering, I felt I had the urge.  You know that feeling I’m sure, the one that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can not ignore.  The eye watering, gut wrenching, gas bubble of a crap was in the works. 

I knew I was away from my house but this one would not wait until later and would have to be acted upon.  Luckily, Tom had a guest bathroom so I figured that I could get in and out without being noticed while he was showering.  I go into the guest bathroom, undo the belt, release the button, and drop my pants.  Before my butt can hit the seat I could feel that rush of release coming over me.  Have you ever felt that uncontrollable urge to want to go so badly that it doesn’t matter where you are?  It was that kind of a feeling about to burst forth at any moment. 

As common as it is for me to be in this position, the relief I felt was beyond words. It was an almost orgasmic feeling as I purged the poisons within my bowels.  Once the quivering subsided and I knew the bio-mission had been accomplished, I was proud that this time I was able to go in a somewhat unfamiliar setting.  In my haste however, I hadn’t taken the time to do the usual 5 point inspection of the surroundings insuring that everything was OK for me to go.

That was MISTAKE NUMBER ONE for me.  In my hurried state to go and the desire to get out of the bathroom before my friend realized I was taking a huge dump in their guest bathroom, I failed to notice that there was no clean up material.  Not even an empty roll could be found.  Perhaps an oversight on someone’s part as no guests were expected and surly not the thing that someone looks at in the normal clean up or restocking of the main bathroom.  I quickly went through the cabinets searching for something that I could use.  Nothing!

There I sat pants down past my knees in the most undignified position without anything to wipe with.  At the back of the cabinet, that is when I saw it sitting there alone in the corner under the cabinet minding its own business.  I wanted to make it my business as I had no idea where the stash of toilet paper might be kept.  My luck it would have been in the garage where I could have done the “two feet” shuffle all the way to the garage and back with my pants down around my ankles.  I thought better of that and decided on another plan.

 MISTAKE NUMBER TWO.  I picked up the container and thought to myself that my friend had moved into the modern age and instead of the old boring butt wipe toilet paper my friend had the latest and greatest tool for wiping.

“Clean up Wipes” the container said.  “Lemon scented and quilted”.  It sounded very refreshing and not like the plain old single or two ply that everyone uses.  I thought I would give this new “wipe” a try as my wife (at the time) had me pick up 3- packs at Costco all the time.  She uses them everywhere, in the kitchen on the counters, in the bathroom for the shower and everywhere, and all over the house for general clean up chores.  This would be great.

I found myself finishing my “clean up” task with no one the wiser.  Tom and I went to grab a beer or two and have a plate of nachos.   On our way to Gallos the restaurant, I thought I could feel a slight itchy and burning feeling as I sat there during the drive over.  It was not too bad and I quickly moved on to other things as the conversation and laughter continued for about 45 minutes. 

Soon I had a burning sensation that words cannot really describe.  My butt was literally on fire.  Now I am over 50 years old and I openly admit without shame or hesitation that I have had a hemorrhoid or two over the years.  They first started at a young age from sitting in a bouncing helicopter but later seemed to go away in my mid life years.  I occasionally have a flare up, or drop out it would seem but nothing too serious. 

Over what seemed like seconds now, the burning spread to my whole crotch area, including the twins.  My friend asked me what was wrong but I barely could catch my breath to explain the events in my nether region.  I explained that I must be having an allergic reaction to the toilet wipes since there was no toilet paper.  I also quickly explained my idea of going to the bathroom away from home or work to Tom at which he began laughing hysterically.  My friend suggested that we make our way to the closest ER just in case there really was a problem from the “Clean up wipes” that I had used which was actually bathroom cleaning supplies.

I write to you now days later, back from the ER, somewhat humiliated as each and every person at Providence tried unsuccessfully not to bust out laughing.  In the grand scheme of things I chalk this up to another of life’s little oddities.  My anus was swollen what felt like the size of a tennis ball (probably more like the size of a golf ball, but it felt much worse) and I had a chemical burn across my butt and other “Important” areas.

Is there a moral to this story?  Maybe “One man’s wipes is another man’s misery” or “Clean up wipes, a thousand and # 2 uses”.

Just thought that I would share that but as my late buddy, Lewis Grizzard used to say, “Damn man, I don’t think I’d told that”.

Ice