Just thought I'd share a funny birthday story in honor of a good friend's special day. A few years ago, my family took me to a surprise dinner for my birthday. It was a grand time...great food, giggles and even cheesecake. Cheesecake is my favorite! We ate and drank and were a merry little bunch. Then they pulled out one last surprise. A one hour massage! Beginning in less than 30 minutes!! Holy shit! You kidding me?! A massage? now? NOW?! WTF?!?! I jumped up and ran out of the restaurant as fast as my chubby legs would move. Then, as I backed out of the parking lot, it hit me. I just ate cheesecake. I JUST ATE CHEESECAKE! A lot of cheesecake. Which contains dairy. A lot of dairy. The likes of which I cannot process internally without experiencing gut-wrenching runs and sonic-booming nose-frying flatulence. It usually hit within 20 minutes of ingestion. The exact time I would be closed up in a small room, completely naked, laid out flat on a table, while some random man (with incredible hands) pressed and prodded and kneaded all parts of my body. ALL parts. Including those containing the horrendous gas pockets. Ah damn.. I drove like a bat out of hell and tried to figure out how to best address the impending issue. Do I tell him? "Hey, I'm so excited for this massage, buuuut I just ate my weight in cheesecake aaaaaand I might fart on you. Like a lot. And I may have to hoof it outta here with the runs. Maybe like a few times. Sorry in advance." Yeah, that would go over really well. Do I cancel and reschedule? Oh HELL no. I never get free time to begin with. I'll never be able to get back in there. What the heck do I do? Do I try to poop NOW and hold the rest until later. God. That would never work. By now I was driving up to the place.. And my belly had begun to bubble and expand. Just wing it. I work best under pressure anyway. And I so NEEDED this upcoming pressure, too. Screw it - just do it. So I did. Walked in like there was no problem in the world. Smiling, happy and butt cheeks squeezed so tightly together they were cramping. I could already hear the masseuse..."Your glutes are really tense. Want me to work on them?" "Sure, dude, just grab a gas mask so you won't pass out." We went through the pleasantries and begin the massage. I was nervous and sweating and close to puking. Nothing had escaped yet, so maybe...just maybe...the attack would be delayed. Maybe I would be so relaxed my guts would decide not to revolt at all. One could hope, right? No such luck. Tummy time was first. The very first time he pressed down on the small of my back a HUGE fart exploded from my rump. BR-RREPPP!! Sounded like a frat boy belching. I froze. Not like I could go anywhere anyway, but still. Mr. Hands froze also. I frantically tried to think of something all cute and witty to say, but the smell hit. I don't want to make anyone sick by describing it, so lets just leave it to the imagination. I will tell you it made my eyes water and my throat burn. I can only imagine what it did to Mr. Hands who was right in the line of fire. I decided to just pretend nothing had happened. Which worked great until another one escaped. Followed by a 3rd, then a 4th. Blurp BOP FWUP! The seal had unfortunately been broken. By this time I had passed through the mortified state and moved on to complete and utter shock. Handsy was backed up against the wall with this weird look on his face. That's when I started giggling. Which led to more farting. Followed by more laughing, then snorting. Then farting. It was a vicious cycle. I was my own one man band! Laughing, crying, farting, snorting - it was all happening right then and there. Not to mention the fact that I was completely naked. I finally asked Handsy if I could please have a minute to myself. He stared me like I had just farted in public. Oh wait...I had. He ran out the door with a cloud of green fog in his wake. As I rolled over and sat up, one big rolly- poly bubbly one let loose and I just couldn't contain myself any longer. I laughed like a freakin lunatic. Tears rolling down my face, snorting like a piglet, farts flying every which way. I slid off the table and dressed myself. Gathered my stuff and tried to sneak out the door. I tip-toed down the hallway in my loud and smelly walk of shame. there was one girl at the front desk. She was all cheery and smiley. I waved and blew myself out the door. I kinda wanted to stand outside to see what happened when the stench hit her, but I realy had to go. I mean like GO! The 2nd act of the poopy play was about to begin. I made it home in time. Barely. I didn't have time or strength to explain anything to my family - who weren't expecting me for at least another hour and a half. They gagged and retched as I scooted past them. I really didnt' want to relive what had happened so I basically just omitted some parts. I told Sir that my stomach was bothering me so i rescheduled. Which was kinda true. I waited a few days and did call back to reschedule. I requested a woman masseuse. I also made sure not to eat a damn thing for 2 days prior to the appointment. Just to be safe. And that was the last time I've been there. So you see, the old addage is true - you CAN''T have your cake and eat it, too. Not if you want a massage within 30 minutes. | |
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