Poo Story
Last week I went in to Boston to shoot some pictures, but first I stopped at Burrito Max because it's been a while since I've had a burrito fix. I learned a valuable lesson: don't scarf down a burrito and expect to be productive afterwards.
I headed into the subway and made it to Park Street. While waiting for the red line, I started to feel a little comotion in my stomach. I figured it would pass and went around in circles trying to walk it off. But as I was standing, the feeling wasn't going away, and my alimentary canal started waking up. I briskly walked back up to the green line. Sitting on the green line heading back to Kenmore, I could actually feel my butt sweating. Squirming in my seat trying to hold everything in, I couldn't even wait to get to Kenmore -- I bounded off the train at Hynes and powerwalked back to Kenmore.
As I got closer to Burrito Max, my colon, which seems to be connected directly to my eyes, began choogling even more. My powerwalk turned into a sprint. I slowed down before reaching the door so as not to look like a silly person and calmly made my way to the loo. Because of that whole eye-to-rectum connection, the sight of the toliet quickened my bowel movements to the point where I was scrambling to detach all my camera stuff and belt buckles and zippers.
Finally, I let er rip almost before I was able to sit down. Ahhhh....relief.
I came thisclose to pooping in my pants. If it wasn't for my superior skills in bodily function withholding, I would've made a mess somewhere around Copley.
Feeling uneasy after that ordeal, I just drove home. I didn't want to risk another potential disaster.
All I have to show for that day is one lousy picture:
