A quick note on dignity and the loss of it.
This Saturday, following a particularly aggressive night of food and drink, I found myself in a friend's apartment discussing a serious issue that has caused me significant anxiety over the past weeks. At the conversation's conclusion, I attempted to infuse a well-timed touch of humor to lighten our collective mood - it so happened that I had been restraining a tremendous fart throughout the duration of our talk and judged this to be an opportune moment to allow for its triumphant release.
Unfortunately what was supposed to be a staccato exclamation point, proved far less tame, and when I released the valve, a seemingly endless, machine gun like series of perineal bursts shot out of my rectum. Clearly, had I accurately gauged either the toxins still in my system from the evening prior OR the dangerously high pressure level accumulated in my bowels, I would never have attempted such a high-wire prank.* But hindsight is 20/20, the damage done... I had just shit my pants.
*Please note that to this day, I still believe whole heartedly in the premise of the gag. It was merely the execution that went a foul.
Now I don't want the imagery here to get out of hand, so let me note that we aren't talking about anything close to a full on dump here - it's not like I looked down and a semi-formed log had rolled out from beneath my pant leg. However, there was no denying that anal discharge occurred. Beyond that, the details are really irrelevant.
This Saturday, following a particularly aggressive night of food and drink, I found myself in a friend's apartment discussing a serious issue that has caused me significant anxiety over the past weeks. At the conversation's conclusion, I attempted to infuse a well-timed touch of humor to lighten our collective mood - it so happened that I had been restraining a tremendous fart throughout the duration of our talk and judged this to be an opportune moment to allow for its triumphant release.
Unfortunately what was supposed to be a staccato exclamation point, proved far less tame, and when I released the valve, a seemingly endless, machine gun like series of perineal bursts shot out of my rectum. Clearly, had I accurately gauged either the toxins still in my system from the evening prior OR the dangerously high pressure level accumulated in my bowels, I would never have attempted such a high-wire prank.* But hindsight is 20/20, the damage done... I had just shit my pants.
*Please note that to this day, I still believe whole heartedly in the premise of the gag. It was merely the execution that went a foul.
Now I don't want the imagery here to get out of hand, so let me note that we aren't talking about anything close to a full on dump here - it's not like I looked down and a semi-formed log had rolled out from beneath my pant leg. However, there was no denying that anal discharge occurred. Beyond that, the details are really irrelevant.
There is very little redeeming about this anecdote. And as for morals, they are no doubt absent. I think my intent here to generate a desperate self-motivational ploy more than anything else. Because to come to grips with Saturday's events means to look myself in the mirror and say, "George, I love you but you're a 26 year old man with no job, no dreams... and you just shit your pants. Please get your life in order."
Remember that experiment from 1st grade, where the teacher asks a volunteer to donate his recently lost tooth... then she places the tooth in a glass of Pepsi and the class watches as day-by-day, it slowly decays? Well over the past 6 months, my dignity has been like that tooth, quietly melting away into nothingness. Then Saturday, with one ill-fated decision in one disastrous moment, it's like someone pulled the last rotten core of tooth out of the soda-bath, placed it on the table and smashed it into pieces so tiny, that what's left is unrecognizable to the human eye. We are left with only the flat Pepsi.
Let's be honest, to search for a silver lining here is folly - today, there is nothing to be taken from this event but shame, both mine and that of anyone who knows me. However, I think what was intended initially to be lighthearted ends up being too gloomy if I don't make a quick addendum:
At the end of the day, you can't get much worse than shitting your pants... and half-intentionally shitting your pants at that. Most the people losing their homes to foreclosure across the country haven't shit their pants. Bernie Madoff probably hasn't shit his pants. In fact, I bet there are quite a few people who've allowed themselves to be sodomized in exchange for methamphetamines, but have never shit their pants.
"At least I never crapped myself for a cheap laugh."Down the road when I look back at this phase of my life, I bet I'll say, "Man, that whole pants shitting episode sure was critical to getting me to stand up, reclaim my self-worth and get my life on track."
Either that or I'll say, "Boy, that whole pants shitting episode really should have been a sign."
