impression----part-1-of-1

Lasting Impression
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I had a group of friends, most guys that I hung around with. In our group, there was one girl, Marsha that I really had the ‘hots’ for. I had asked her out many times and she had always said, "we go out all the time, and we always spend time together." But obviously, to everyone but her, I was looking a ‘date’ date and not just hanging around with her and a bunch of my friends date. So, I kept asking and over time Marsha eventually agreed.
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She was going to meet me at my house (actually my parent's house) and I was going to take her to a club named ‘The Purple Orchid’, a club about a 45-minute to an hour drive on the back roads. We had been there many times before, but this was the first time on a ‘date.’
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When Marsha got there, I was a little nervous. I know we’d hung around and chatted many times before, danced together and all that, but this was a read DATE with her. I was excited and nervous all at the same time, hoping up on hope that this date would lead to something more.
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We got into my pick-up and headed out around 7:30 or so. My truck was clean, a nice stereo system and fabric seats. It was a cool evening. By that I mean it wasn't hot or really cold, just a little cool. Marsha was always beautiful but it looked like she’d done a few extra things to make herself look good. Thinking that she’d dressed up just for a date with me, made me happy inside.
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We’d been on the road about 20-minutes or so, when my stomach started churning, suddenly those nervous butterflies were trying to escape. Without causing a big scene, I rolled down my window and squeezed out a silent fart. Well, the window didn't help. The truck was quickly filled with the odious odor of ass. I made some kind of stupid joke or something and tried to laugh my way out of it. Marsha rolled down her window too. After a minute or two, the smell cleared and we rolled the windows back up.
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About a couple of miles later, my stomach was really rumbling and I had a huge uncontrollable sensation that I had to either fart or shit. I knew if I tried squeeze out another one, I could either try to hide it again or I might just crap on myself, but the feeling was growing. I was starting to sweat a little; there were no restrooms for miles. What to do, oh god, what to do?

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At this point I was at risk of just blowing the whole date by crapping in my pants. Then up ahead I saw a small dirt road with a little thicket of woods beside it. Franticly, I pulled the truck over and asked Marsha if she had any paper in her pocketbook. Her expression was a combination of both shock and laughter, but thank goodness, she managed to find me some paper and I darted into the woods. As I jumped the ditch and sprinted for the woods, I could hear her laughing and saying; "oh my God, I can't believe this,” or something along that line.

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In a panic, I splintered behind cover, pulled down my slacks and did the deed that had to be done. It was a major explosion but was over in just a couple of minutes. I wiped, pulled up my pants, tucked in my shirt, regained my composure and headed back to the truck. Now that my stomach was better, I tried to be cool about the whole thing as I strolled back to my truck.

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When I hopped back in, Marsha said something like, “Feel better now?”

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Trying to laugh, I said something like, “Yeah, that's a load off my mind.” I quickly pulled out off of the dirt road and headed on down the highway towards the club. We hadn't gone a ¼-of a mile when she suddenly rolled down her window and said, “Damn, did you just cut one again?"

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“No,” I swore to her, “I didn't.”

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When it got chilly, she rolled her window back up, then immediately back down. "I still can smell it", she gasp, "You didn't step in it did you?"

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A sinking feeling came over me because I could smell it too. It was dark out there so, who knows? I pulling the truck to the side of the road, I turned on the inside light and leaned forward to check the bottom of my shoes.

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Suddenly, Marsha gasped, “Oh my god, ...you shit on your back!"

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Franticly, I jumped out of the truck and as I sprinted in front of the headlights, I peeled off my shirt. I could have died; there were splatters of crap running from the bottom to the top of my collar.

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When I discovered that it was matted in my cloth seats as well as all over my shirt, so there was nothing to do but turn around and head back home. To make matters worse, Marsha was practically rolling on the floor laughing. Obviously, there was never a second date and when all was said and done, not really a first one. Although, Marsha was nice enough to endure this and I showered and changed, still go to ‘The Purple Onion’ with me. But, somehow the evening just never came together.

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The best that I can figure was, when I walked into the woods, I stepped on a little sapling and bent it over, crapped on it and then when I stood up to wipe, it sprang back up and splattered me. The worst date ever.

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10-years later, at class reunion.... Marsha told the story. It's much funnier hearing her tell it.

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The End…

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