Get ready for the ultimate #firstdateFAIL:
I’d had a crush on my office-mate Brian forever. Then, one day after work, I finally mustered up the confidence to ask him out to get coffee. And—wait for it—he said yes!
I was ecstatic, but also terrified. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the passenger seat of his Camry on our way to a local java joint. This it it, I thought. Finally a chance to show Brian how cool and down-to-earth I am! Well, let’s just say I got a little TOO down-to-earth, because I died. Ugh!
After about five minutes of driving, I thought Brian was going to reach out and touch my hand with his. Right as it was about to happen, we got sideswiped by a Range Rover and I flew out the window because I wasn’t wearing my seat belt! And, if you can believe it, that’s not even the most embarrassing part! Because after I died, I pooped my pants.
That’s right—my sexy new white J Brand jean shorts were completely ruined by the stream of doo-doo leaking from my unconscious body! Ladies, if you think there’s any chance you might die, PLEASE stick with a dark denim.
So now I’m lying there, freaking dead, just praying that he can’t see me. I even tried to cover my butt by tying a sweater around my waist, but I was dead and can’t move my arms! Ugh! As he ran over to my corpse to check my pulse, he got a whiff of my diarrhea-covered ass. It was then that I knew a second date was out of the question.
He started throwing up and sobbing uncontrollably. Just great, I thought. Not only did I soil my new clothes, but I made my date cry! Looking back, I guess I could have tried to laugh it off, but at the time I just lay there being dead like a moron. 20-20 hindsight, I guess.
There was nothing I could do—my fate was sealed I would forever be known as the girl who pooped her pants on the first date. The doctors told everyone that my death was quick and painless, but NOTHING tops the pain of having your crush catch you taking a number two.