i took a sh*t at my friend’s apartment and still haven’t owned up to it

i felt it was paramount that more people were privy to this life-ruining secret of mine, so here goes:

i was hanging out at a coworker’s place with a bunch of others. as time passed, i felt a growing pain in my stomach, and i fell silent and cold-faced in the midst of a card game. it was the two chicken jalapeño pockets i had for lunch at work, i was sure of it. “maybe, if i leave now in the middle of the game, i’ll be able to slip away for longer unnoticed,” i thought. the logic isn’t really there in hindsight, but i was drunk, so whatever.

i got up, asked the person next to me to cover my future turns, and i strode down the dark hallway, clutching my gurgling stomach as i approached the bathroom. i locked the door and sat myself on the toilet. i considered turning on the fan and decided against it — if they heard me turn it on, surely they’d know i was taking a shit, and i didn’t think i’d ever be able to live it down if others knew i was capable of basic digestive functions (i was drunk and paranoid, please don’t @ me 😔). it was for that same reason that i didn’t ghost flush (a crucial tactic for minimizing the lethal scent). i just waited, wiped, one single flush — held my breath as the toilet hesitated for a second — then a small sigh of relief watching all the contents flush down smoothly.

i returned to the table nervously. maybe, i hoped, if everyone collectively avoided the bathroom for the next fifteen-or-so minutes, the smell would dissipate enough to be nearly unnoticeable. maybe nobody would notice, maybe— but in less than a minute, those hopes were shattered as i watched my coworker rise from his seat across from me, and make his way towards the bathroom — no, the death trap that i had unintentionally laid out. when he came back, no words were exchanged between us, but i knew. and he knew. and i knew that he knew that i knew, and there was no need to verbalize this knowing for me to know that he knew that i knew. and “knew” now ceases to look or sound like a real word.

so yeah that’s my confession, i hope reading about my shituation was worth the two minutes of your life.