Thursday, December 13, 2012
I got a text message from OF yesterday (Old Friend of undesirable snackage fame).
OF: OMG! I went to Wal Mart with BBQ sauce all over my freaking face. Nobody said anything.
Me: Funniest thing I've heard all day. Would've been better with pictures...just sayin'.
OF: I could not believe it when I saw it in the rear view mirror. I looked like a 2 yr old. Nobody said a thing in the store
Me: OMG, The Princess said she just thought she saw one of my friends at the store w/stuff all over her face but was too embarrassed to say anything.
OF: Lol you liar.
Me: She has pictures...you'll be in the next "People of WalMart" email...
It made me laugh out loud. I always love it when stuff like this happens to other people. Usually these little humiliations happen to me so it makes me feel good to know that I'm not the only one.
I was even more glad it wasn't me this weekend at Bunco. The monthly game was at the SIL's (Sister In Law) house where the hostess with the most-ess prepared a feast fit for kings...or in this case queens...because we're all women...not flamboyant gay men...in case I need to clarify that point.
OF, Scari, Smellie and I met at OF's house and all hopped into OF's car for the long ride into old folks land in the hills. OF hosted a party at her house the night before for people from her office where they consumed mass quantities of food and adult beverages...then broke out the karaoke machine...personally, I don't think you could get me drunk enough to sing in public...and I really don't want to test this theory. Anyway, it was a busy weekend for OF whose stomach is apparently not made of cast iron as was previously thought.
When we got to the SIL's, we spent the first thirty minutes drinking and stuffing our faces. The SIL had a bottle of Iced Cake Vodka...sounds really good...and it was...just a little too sweet. I mixed it with citrus punch to try to cut the sweetness to no avail. It reminded me of drinking sloe gin and orange juice when I was in high school. Like the latter, it made me feel like I was going to throw up after a little while. Note to self...avoid cake vodka in the future.
We got through the first round of Bunco fine, but during the second round as we were nearing the end, all of a sudden OF says to her partner "You're going to have to roll for me"...as she jumps up and practically runs from the table.
We finish the round...sans OF...when everyone decides to take a break so we can stuff our fat faces even more than we previously had...and use the bathroom.
"Oh, someone beat me to the bathroom" bemoans poor Smellie while the rest of us stuff our faces. The bathroom door is right off the kitchen where we're all gathered and you can see from the light under the door that the room is occupied.
Smellie's easily distracted by food and chatter for a few minutes when she turns back to the bathroom and sees again to her dismay that it's occupied..."Oh I missed it again" she says, thinking that whoever was in there came out and some other lucky full bladdered party goer slipped in before her. Smellie's now on a mission to be the next person in the bathroom come hell or high water.
"Who's in the bathroom anyway?" yells Smellie to no one in particular. The bathroom door remains shut...
At this point I get the giggles because I know that poor OF is stuck in the bathroom pooping her brains out wishing with all her heart that we'd all just magically disappear from her world so she could exit the bathroom with some shred of dignity...but noooooo....
"Hey, who's in there?" Smellie continues her verbal assault...(In her defense, had she known the circumstances she never would have said a word...and I'm sure she felt bad once she made it into the bathroom where her keen sense of smell told the story of the previous occupant.)
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bathroom door opens and OF, looking six feet tall, is framed in the doorway...all eyes turned...it was an E.F. Hutton moment (there's a blast from the past).
OF musters as much dignity on the walk of shame from the bathroom as is humanly possible. I start laughing again because every time I get embarrassed or nervous that's what I do...and I'm totally embarrassed for OF...and soooo thankful that it wasn't me.
We, at least me and most of the women I know, get so embarrassed by having to poop in public. It's like we think people don't really know we poop if we only do it at home. With the exception of Smellie, who worked in sales for years and spent her days travelling and who proudly declares herself "an indiscriminate pooper" who will poop anywhere, anytime, everyone I know is mortified at the thought of pooping in public. When most of us are forced to Sneak-A-Poop, we do the courtesy flush to cover sound and try to eliminate smell...everyone knows what you're doing...but we still do it. Someday maybe I'll be mature enough to poop and fart loudly and proudly. So far, I'm still an immature wimp.
Most men, and I say most because I'm sure there are exceptions, couldn't care less where they poop. If they gotta go, they go. They may get embarrassed but if they are, they just cover well by making jokes "better light a match, ha ha ha"etc. Which, by the way, doesn't work...it only leaves an unpleasant sulfur smell on top of the poop smell. So please don't think, if the bathroom lacks air freshener, lighting a match will do any good. Everyone will just know you tried to cover the poop smell with a match.
There is, however, a new wonderfully fabulous product called Poo-Pourre. You spray it in the toilet before you poop and it magically eliminates the poop smell. And, unfortunately for OF since she didn't have one, comes with a handy purse sized sprayer...which I will now carry with me wherever I go in case I'm forced to be a Sneak-a-pooper.
I try to get The Husband to spray before he poops. So far, no luck. He doesn't even think of it. He comes out of the bathroom and the whole house (which is really tiny) stinks to high heaven.
"I put that Poo-Pourre on the window sill right by the toilet so that you'd use it" I tell him in between gag reflexes.
This is his reply..."Well, don'tcha want to know when I've been there???"...Um, no, not really...it's such a guy remark...and it's the stoopidist thing...