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TIFUpate: allowing my coworker to set me up

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TIFU by shitting my pants at work

To preface, I’d been having anxiety because my boyfriend and I are on the outs. We are hardly talking and my usual anxiety has been amplified. I hadn’t eaten anything in 72 hours and my stomach was in knots from the emotional turmoil.

I fucked up by letting out a fart at work that turned out to be a lot more than I bargained for. Instant regret. I was sitting in my car on my lunch break, 5 minutes before I had to clock back in, and I go to let out a nice fart. You know, the kind that relieve a stomach ache and make the world feel a bit more satisfying.

Instead, I was met with something I can only describe as hot, wet mass enveloping my thighs. I was wearing light colored pants, which soon were a disgusting yellow brown color.

If that all wasn’t bad enough, I remembered I had to clock in and had to quickly come up with a solution. I ran back to work, hobbling as to not disturb the shit that had found a new home between my thighs.

Thankfully my manager was in the foyer, so I waved to her to come outside so I wouldn’t have to face my coworkers and also stink the place up. It was the most embarrassing conversation I have ever had. I couldn’t look her in the eye. I told her the truth though, that I’d shit my pants and needed to take an extended lunch to go home and change.

I wish I would have lied. Said anything aside from the truth. That I’d got my period and it soaked through my pants. That I had wet my pants. ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE TRUTH.

but no, she had to get the visual of my poopy underwear.

TL;DR - I shit my pants at work and had a mortifying conversation with my manager about it

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