TIFU by carrying around my own hot sauce

This happened a few years ago, but I realized it might be fun to post in here, so just a heads up.

Not today, but still a very big IFU.

I (21F at the time) was a college student that had a leadership position in a club with my friends at my university. It was kind of a big organization and we got to use special conference rooms and office areas in our student union. My friends, also leadership, and I had to have weekly meetings at 7 am every Tuesday (it was unfortunately the only time everyone was available), but on the bright side the restaurant downstairs was always still serving breakfast by the time we wrapped up! They had some killer breakfast burritos, but the only options for hot sauce - or should i say OPTION were these watery, bland, salsa packets that i needed to use like 10 of on one burrito.

A few weeks into our team breakfasts, i had ENOUGH of mild burritos. I went to the grocery store that day and bought a 12 oz bottle of hot sauce to take with me to breakfast. I put it in the side pocket of my backpack (where you usually keep a water bottle) and brought it everywhere. It really came in handy! My friends thought it was silly and often asked to use it too.

Now this is where IFU. One day, after a late class that ended at around 5:45, I needed to change into my organizations uniform for a big big meeting we had (like 1000+ students at this thing). I had a test in my class so dipping early or skipping was not an option - i packed my uniform in a bag and shoved in my backpack beforehand so I could change in the bathroom of the student union. I hop into a stall of the women’s second floor bathroom by our offices and start changing as fast as possible. I’m already running behind and I need to look nice, so i pull on a skirt and my polo, switch my shoes, and pull my backpack over my shoulder.

The force of my over the shoulder bag swing then sends my hot sauce bottle flying with some serious velocity. Enough velocity, actually, that it darts directly into the bathroom stall door. Shatters into 1 billion pieces, and explodes into a flavorful yet hauntingly red puddle of glass and sauce on the floor of the women’s restroom.

Unfortunately i was not alone in this bathroom. It has like 10 stalls, 3 other girls are in there, they all shriek and ask if im okay. I frantically begin cleaning hot sauce with toilet paper scared for my LIFE to open this stall door and allow these women to see my in my skirt and polo scrambling over 12 oz of Cholula. In my panic, my shoe slips, i go knees first into the sauce, a shard of hot sauce glass becomes lodged in my leg. Deeply. Lodged.

I know this because i tried to pull it out, and then, mixed with the hot sauce, came a very large amount of blood pouring out of my knee. I panic.

I grab my bag, abandon the scene, watched by the other very confused women in the restroom. I limp, sauce and blood dripping on my DSW flats, praying our faculty advisor is still in her office. Everyone’s already at the meeting, the Student Union is empty, i hold onto hope. My prayers, they are answered, she is in her office.

It takes 4 bandages, tape, and gauze to stop the bleeding, and a call to custodial that I don’t think they’ve ever gotten before. 4000 “I’m so sorry”s later, i make it to the meeting 10 minutes late. I smell like a southwestern egg roll from chilis.

After that i just suffered through salsa packets again. I had to stop putting Cholula on things. When i smell it i am transported to the 3rd stall on the left of the second story bathroom. I switched to Valentina.

TLDR; I carried hot sauce in my bag in college, it exploded in a bathroom, i slipped in it, and injured myself in the process.