I hate when I haven’t pooped before I leave the house. I went out for breakfast the other day and I didn’t manage to squeeze a poop before I left. Almost immediately after I finished eating I could feel him trying to poke his way out of my bum. I had a dilemma, I knew that my poop wasn’t quite ready and I needed to walk around a little to get him ready to go. I didn’t have that kind of time though. So either I had to go now, or cross my legs.
I decided to go.
It was one of the hardest I’ve ever had to push. Luckily it was one of those one person bathrooms because I was grunting and groaning away. I had to work so hard for this guy I was rocking back and forth on the toilet, pressing down on my bowels trying to make sure every last bit of him came out.
I was in there for a while so when I finally did come out I had to do that walk of shame back to my table. Anyone who had seen me go to the bathroom and then saw how long it was when I finally came back, knew what I had done in there. Oh they knew.