When I was 19 I was head over heals for this girls. We were Romeo and Julliet, all of the ninja turtles, and Buzz and Woody. On this particular evening I had driven home college in a act to show her I loved her with all of my heart. I don't think my behind felt the same way.
When we arrived at the movies I got the tickets and she went after the snacks. When she returned I gave the tickets to her so I could us that bathroom. As I was at the toilet I felt a gas rolling up inside of me. Being the southern gentleman I am I decided that the best course of action was to pass gas in the bathroom. This did not work as planed. I proceeded to poop myself.
It wasn't that bad I thought. I went into cleanup mode and pulled the soiled underwear off and cleaned up. The next part of this story is one I can't tell you why I decided it was a good idea to stick that pair of underwear deep into my cargo pocket and proceed to meet my date and ask her for her key to her car. She gave them to me and I went to the trunk and put my underwear in the trunk and went back to the movie. I have never been a fantastic liar so in the end I told her what happened. She knew I was strange already so maybe that justifies to her that it was ok. Who know?
The moral of this story is to always carry a pair of clean underwear at all times.