[Orgazmo]

My freshman year of college, I was in the "honors dorm" at BSU. The building was separated into two separate dorms...like, walk in the main doors, left = one dorm, right = the other. Left was all guys, right was all girls.

My girlfriend at the time was visiting and one of her good friends lived in the girl part. We were all over there eating Greek's pizza having a good time.

Now, because this was the girl's part of the dorm, there was obviously no guys bathroom. Compounding this, all of the girls bathrooms had key swipe things on them. You could not enter without swiping your ID that identified you as a resident of said dorm. A little excessive, but whatever.

In the midst of conversation with the group we're hanging out with, I realize I have a bit of a fart to let go. Not having a bearing on my smelliness yet (my first real fart of the evening), I decide to take a small walk by myself to gauge the intensity. I get mid-hallway and let if off...only to realize that it's not a fart at all. It's a definite shart.

Fuck.

A wet fart is nothing that I'm not accustomed to, though. I can live with that. What I can't live with is the giant bubbly feeling that immediately infiltrated my stomach thereafter. It sounded like a science experiment was going on in my lower abdomen. A science experiment where something had gone terribly wrong. What was once fun and games, shooting the shit with some friends and people I didn't really like quickly turned into me quickly walking toward the exit of this dorm so that I could sprint up the stairs on my own side to my 3rd floor paradise.

Sidenote to explain the floorplan: As mentioned, this is one building with 2 dorms. Separating the two dorms is a giant lobby area with a few big screen tv's. There is also a front desk with RA's. Normally, this area is dead. This is a Friday night, though. And it's an honors dorm. Instead of being out and about, the residents are crowding this area like bees to honey. It's a god damned metropolis. Terrific.

So here I am, doing a speed walk to the exit of the girls' dorm. Navigating this god damned maze of hallways to find the one exit like I'm a modern day Christopher Columbus. The plan is to speed walk through the lobby area, dodge people, get to the stairway...and bolt.

Before I even get out of the girls area, my bowels force my hand. It gets to a point where I have a decision: Sprint or stand completely still. If I sprint, I lose a bit of control but will get to the very public, probably crowded bathroom in the lobby area a bit more quickly. If I stand completely still, I'll be able to focus all of my concentration of clenching my asshole.

These are the situations that make boys into men. I've never really had a true life-or-death situation...but I can't imagine it being much more stressful.

I make a snap judgment and decide to freeze. And it didn't matter.

Despite my best efforts, shit starts to slowly ooze from my asshole. We're not talking about a complete outpouring here, but there definitely something bad going on back there.

When a man devotes 100% of his effort to something which should be completely manageable...and it still doesn't work out, the feeling is completely demoralizing. Being a bit more specific, when a man forces part of his body to do one thing and another happens, it's enough to crush him. In this particular instance, I'm standing in the middle of a god damned hallway, closing off a pipe as hard as I can close it...and yet there's still a leak. It felt like reverse rape. Like I was being penetrated from the inside out. Slowly, methodically, surely...the shit was winning. And it was gaining momentum. This kind of thing can sometimes make a man do irrational things. Things that he hides away in the closets of his mind for years.

So here I am, frozen in the middle of a dorm with no unlocked bathroom. Trying to hold on for dear life, praying to a god that I don't know exists, asking for help from any part of my mind that isn't already focused...and it's still not going well. I decide to go for plan B. I decide to sprint.

I bust through the exit door of the dorm, sprint around the lobby area, and quickly enter the "public" bathroom.

If you've never found yourself in a situation similar to what I've described above, it may be tough to know what happened during that sprint. If you have, though, I'm sure that you can empathize with my situation. I'm sure that you know exactly what was going on inside of my pants during that sprint. I'd imagine that you know exactly what was dripping down my thighs.

By the time I found my way into the stall in that bathroom, the situation was grim. Luckily, there was no one in there when I entered...but that somehow didn't make it much better. Luckily enough, my friend Joe Boxer had handled 95% of the damage...but, in taking the bullet, he was completely destroyed. A true lost cause. As I sat on the toilet, expelling any shit that was left in my colon, I worked on removing said boxers and using every bit of toilet paper beside me to clean my legs and to dry up the brown liquids from my jeans. During this process, at least one gentleman entered the bathroom. As soon as it happened, he said "Jesus" and immediately left. I guess it smelled bad or something.

Once I was finished, I quickly flushed, exited the stall, buried my boxers in the towel trashcan, and walked out of the bathroom. I made a point to not make eye contact with anyone as I quickly and quiety walked to my dorm area. For all I know, every god damned person in that lobby was staring at me. In my head they were, at least.

When I got back to my dorm room, I cleaned up a little more thoroughly, wrapped my jeans in a plastic bag, buried them away in the dorm main trash, and changed clothes. Not too long after, the girlfriend came looking for me wondering what happened. "I started feeling sick and thought I may puke" I said. That was enough to stop any questioning. I guess that's a good excuse to randomly leave a conversation amongst 5 or 6 people and go back to your dorm room without saying a word. Who knew?

It wasn't all a loss, though. I did learn a valuable life lesson that night. That being: If I feel like I might shit my pants...I probably will shit my pants. I always figured that adults didn't do that. Turns out they do.

Or...at least I do.

Now I know.