Embarrassing Story Thread

funny how that works huh?

Elaine puts it best:

A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards.

It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you-in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated.

Perhaps a bit too much, however.

I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...

I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take good shit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wirecutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit. I went to the normal stall.

In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions. I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.

In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.

At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.

Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw

water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.

In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.

In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no fucking toilet paper.

What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was=20 crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would=20 get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet=20 paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with = him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her,I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.

Omg and I thought I was the only woman who thought this
Don't get me wrong... I love men and am 100% straight... but the only time they should be butt-ass naked is while doing the dirty deed :)

When I was about 8 or so I was in a Hallmark store with my mom, she was looking for a card for my dads birthday. I was totally bored and needed to pee but she was taking her time so I started reading some of the funny greeting cards to pass the time. I was really enjoying them so i knelt down to get to some on a lower rack. About that time my mom said lets go and I tried to stand up but realized if I did I would piss myself. I told her that I couldn't stand up and she was like wth,came over and grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet as I let loose what seemed like gallons of piss down my legs right there in the middle of the store. I was beyond embarrassed.

You told this story a few years ago in another thread, I remember I laughed until tears were running down my face. Great stories everyone

or showering (not bathing, men dont take baths)

I am not even half way through and you have me in tears... you should take up writing professionally if you haven't already!

Now back to reading your story...

Several years ago my husband and I were applying for a mortgage loan. My daughter Sarah was 4 at the time and a very bright and obvservant child. I needed to go to a meeting with the loan officer at the bank. Not being in school yet Sarah had to go with me. We go in and I sit down and start chatting with the loan officer, an attractive woman in her 50's. I notice Sarah quitley studying the loan officers face while we were talking. We finish up and are getting ready to leave, then Sarah turns to the loan officer and says very clearly "You're really old, aren't you?" I will never forget the loan officer's face. I was mortified. We still got the loan, but I really wanted to beat Sarah that day.

kids really do say the darnest things dont they?

Wall of Text AC,

that was a very funny story.

works party...summers night...too much to drink...nightclub later with my brother,...packed...got that feeling...the one where you know you have less than a minute before projectile vomit starts emanating...toilets the OTHER side of the 300 punters in the nightclub...pretty young girl in front of me, with what was OBVIOUSLY a brand new, and very sexy dress on...10 seconds to go, launch director in my stomach initiates engines...mouth fills up with pre launch fluids.. I look like one of those bullfrogs about to 'ribbit'...total panic, I look at my brother for help, but he could do fuck all....LAUNCH.... all over said pretty girl... boyfriend is about to knock me out when he notices my huge brother... brother apologises to them for me and I beat a hasty retreat out of nightclub

sorry, to that girl. doubt you're reading this but I still feel bad about it.

Perfect! I was trying to figure out the best way to address him without having to re-post that whole story! But yes, very funny!

I remember it from then also. I also laughed until I cried.

I'm glad the AC posted it again, I'm going to show it to my friend later. They'll get a kick out of it.


Thanks AC 238 for posting this again. You are a great story teller!

No worries, these things are to be expected while out at night clubs

I don't get embarrassed, but I had to piss at a football game and it was a school we never played before...just last football season...it was pouring down rain and the bathrooms were in the gym, so by the time I got there my glass were fogged up...the doors were propped open and I just walked in one...the lack of urinals should have been my first clue, but I realized I was in the wrong one when I saw the tampon dispenser on the way out the door, after of course reliving myself, washing my hands, and then my glasses...luckily no one else was in there although a couple of girls were whispering as I walked out :)

Last Edited by BRIEF on 02/04/2013 03:24 PM

been puked on before?

we have a winner I think.

Nope, never been puked on :) Although if I ever get the itch to try something kinky and new, I know who to call!

lol, not this guy.

Darn... guess I'll have to settle for the projectile vomit of Anonymous Coward 33508203
But I seriously doubt I will get that itch.
EVER.
:)

good i was just beginning to like you

:buziclap:

i AM available!

at a price!

a case of Stellas, and a thousand bucks.

i can do kinky.

Thanks for that.Your story is so funny!

sure thing

share yours!

Somebody said waterpark, and I was reminded of this. I was in the 6th grade, so 11 or 12 years old, and we went with the local church youth group to a water park about an hour from our houses. We were having a blast, I was enjoying myself immensely, when I made the fateful decision to go down the water slide. It was long, and twisty, and very wet. I flew down that thing, it was so awesome!

Unbeknownst to me, there was a little kid behind me in line who just couldn't wait. He was 7, tops. The full force of his 50 pound body came flying off that slide just in time to come in contact with my still emerging from the water face. He hit me with his heel square in the eye, so hard it knocked me out. I sank back into the water, and the next thing I know, I am lying on dry ground with the hottest lifeguard I ever saw over me asking if I was okay.

The worst part of the whole ordeal was that it took 2 weeks for the shiner to go away. I eventually just started telling people I got kicked in the face by a 7 year old boy. They'd look at me funny, but it made me laugh.

oh man. painful AND funny.

There were 4 of us that went out on this date 2 guys and 2 girls the young lady I was with I didn't know too well, but like most guys I was scheming to get her drunk enough to get some.

We were hitting some clubs and drinking and dancing and stuff. About closing time we went back to my friends apartment. During the trip back the young lady who is leaning on me, and looking kind of pale starts getting the spins.

We pull into the parking lot and I tell her "stay there I'll help you out". My friends go to the apartment door, and I (like a real gentleman) go around to the other side of the car and open the door for her.

I open the door and she flops across the seat face first with her head hanging out the door, and Wharfs the biggest steaming puddle of Puke I have ever seen come out of a woman's mouth.

It was hitting the ground and splashing up on the car and in her hair and shit. I was choking back the laughter and waiting for her to finish when my friend came out to see what was taking us so long. I had to suck it up quick and wipe the amusement of my face quick and say "I think she's sick".

We all helped her get in the apartment, then I hung around for awhile thinking maybe I could rinse her off and get some. Things weren't looking so good, so I went home.

Never saw her again.

That shouldn't have stopped you...