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TIFU by getting Korean BBQ

This just happened to me an hour ago but I knew I needed to post it on here since I never have anything good to post.

I drove about an hour away from my home to get Korean BBQ with my sisters. When I got there, I noticed they had been using the a pair of tongs to grab the uncooked chicken to cook, and then used the same tongs to move the cooked chicken onto our plates.

I felt weird about that about that but didn’t say anything. I figured if they only gave us one pair, then this must be how it’s done and it must be safe. Maybe this is just how the Koreans do things.

Fast forward to after dinner. I was stuffed with delicious bulgogi and teriyaki chicken, I had made one bathroom trip and I was eager to get home. I clicked “home” on Google maps but little did I know this was the fatal mistake.

Halfway home, my boyfriend and I start to argue about something, and I started to feel some sharp pain and pressure in my belly. I was so focused on trying to win the argument, I got off at an exit that stumped me directly into event traffic. Yeah turns out I clicked “work” on my gps, not “home.” This detour added an unnecessary 20 minutes. After about 5 minutes in traffic, I knew that I was doomed to shit my pants tonight.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I hit every stoplight on the way home and got stuck in 3 separate traffic jams.

I thought about pulling over to shit at a gas station. Would I rather just shit my pants, or risk being harassed or assaulted at 10:30pm in the middle of South central by the weird guys pacing in front of the gas station? I ultimately decided to just accept my fate and focus on getting home.

All the while, my boyfriend is still in the phone. I was panicking and struggling so hard to get words out that I eventually just cussed him out. I didn’t know this until afterwards but my shitty attitude during the whole scene had driven him to drink. He had picked up a nice bottle of scotch and a pack of cigarettes and waited for me outside so he could get the cat and I could run inside. (Don’t worry I’ve apologized and he was really chill about everything.)

I was finally at the exit and had ALMOST made it when it all finally let loose. I wish I was kidding when I say that I literally tried to stop the shit from coming out my ass hole as I exited the freeway. Hot steaming shit piled into the back of my pants and quickly made its way to the front.

At this point, I’ve got one hand under my ass, my ass is lifted off the seat, I’m on the freeway exit trying not to cause a traffic accident, I’m in pain, I can smell everything, I’m yelling at my bf who didn’t do anything wrong (again, I apologized) and now I’m scared I’m gonna get a vaginal infection or hit from the feces that had now taken up residence in my crotch.

There was just no stopping it. Having to walk inside my house with pants full of my own shit was humbling…

Tldr: I ate Korean bbq too far from my house and shit my pants on the drive home.

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