I Crapped My Pants at Work After Six Months of Sobriety
This happened on Friday and I'm still fuming. I know it's important to get this shit off your chest, pun not intended. A wise man once said that the number one cause for relapse is holding onto resentment and I know I need to let go:
I'd gone 6 months without crapping my pants and I just started feeling good about myself. Stopped carrying extra underwear everywhere, started wearing the slimmer pants that I used to love, whiter socks - you know how it goes. Well on Friday I'd actually used the washroom before work as I always try to do. It was good, I didn't hold it in or anything I just went and read Jughead comics while I did my business (I would highly recommend these for doing your business in peace - much easier read than Garfield or Dilbert or some of the others I see talked about). Anyways, I had a little yogurt with granola bits, no coffee of course, and drove to work.
So I'm a software developer at a mid-sized start-up company. We've actually been doing really well this summer and making good progress on a project for a client, so the plan was that we'd all go out for a company lunch today. 01:00PM rolls around and our boss comes out and we hold a vote for where to go. I voted for the Mediterranean place, of course, but one of the accountants noted that "we did go there last time". Fuck's sake. Leave it to an accountant. So we ended up voting for the Mexican place nearby. That's right - Mexican food. I know you're probably thinking that I should've said I can't eat Mexican food, but I really didn't want to make myself out to be a sore loser. Plus, when I was still crapping my pants, I always used to bring Chipotle in to the office and everybody knew that I was "the Chipotle guy" so there really wasn't anything I could've done.
When democracy failed and we were all seated, I looked at the menu and was horrified. Everything was as bad as you can expect. (TW: sp*cy beef, beans, corn, jalapenos, pico de gallo). There was nothing for a recovering pants crapper to eat, absolutely nothing. This wasn't one of those new places either where you can substitute things for dairy-free or gluten-sensitive options: this was raw greasy Mexican food of the highest caliber. Hell, when I was still pantsing my craps, I would've loved this place but now, it was like an alcoholic taking a big whiff of whisky, or a former smoker walking into an Indian casino. To make it worse, everyone was talking about how good everything looked: the software intern said it was a nice break from his project, and the one HR lady who voted for Vietnamese even said she was glad we went here.
When it came time to order everyone was laughing and smiling with the waitress. When she glanced over at me I tried to order the lesser of all evils: pork tacos. I asked if I could get the sp*cy sauce on the side and the waitress tilted her head at me like she didn't understand. Then everyone started laughing. The accountant guy said "Are you gonna want a straw with that, Chipotle guy!" and everyone laughed even harder. Fucking accountants. Of course when the pork tacos arrived they were covered with hot sauce. So much that it even made a little soup at the bottom of the plate. It looked like a artistic rendition of Dante's Inferno. I started to feel a premonition of a rumble in the depths of my stomach.
I couldn't make a scene about it at a company lunch. I ate the tacos trying not to touch the sauce that covered everything. Everyone was having such a good time, there were even a few beers on the table. The CTO made a toast with the whole tapping the dirty fork on the beer glass and everything. My head was swimming. When he mentioned my "Chipotle-fueled code reviews" I forced a fake laugh that churned my stomach like a boat on open sea. I clenched my fists and prayed it would end soon.
When it finally did and it was time to leave, I told everyone I'd be right back at the office, but that I was going to fuel my car first. The accountant guy said "Hey, bring me a Chipotle too!" Fucking accountants. I haven't had a Chipotle in over half a year. Nobody would even call me Chipotle guy if it wasn't for this a**hole. When I got to the gas station, I parked in a stall. My car was fueled this morning. I ran inside and found that the washrooms were one of those ones where you have to ask the guy for a key. So I hung my head and asked. When I finally got inside, I reached in my bag and my heart sank: No Jughead. I left them all at home - Damn my confidence!
I left the washroom after pretending to wash my hands and I heard "Hey sir! Washroom is for the customer only, sir". I bought a pack of gum, exited the store, and immediately threw it in the trash.
Back in the office I kept my eye on the clock. 2:30PM. Just two and a half hours before I can get home. I'm ahead of my work, I can just try to relax and I'll be good. So I did just that. I tried to find Jughead comics online, but they didn't seem very funny for some reason. Then I started feeling the warning sign. There was a pressure on my b*tthole region. I took a deep breath. The pressure got worse. I moved position and sat on my chair backwards like a cool middle-school teacher. It kept building. I closed my eyes and continued breathing. One Mississippi, Two Mississippi. The pressure continued to build. I heard a faint muffled sound from my stomach and let out a quiet "Uunghh". I even tried looking at Dilbert comics online but all I could find was news that Dilbert died from cancer. 4:30PM I started massaging my stomach, pulling up on my ribcage as if coaxing the crap into my lungs. Dilbert creator Scott Adams has died, January 13, 2026. My breathing started to slow. was abruptly dropped from syndication in 2023 after racist remarks. I doubled over in my chair, clutching my left b*ttock. "I had an amazing life, I gave it everything I had". I closed my eyes. It was over.
Our office is located in a large building and we share the washrooms with a couple other businesses. This meant I needed to walk out our doors and into a hallway that led to the bathroom. As I waddled my way out, the software intern got in my way. "Hey, would you be able to review -" I pushed past him, hand gripping my stomach. I waddled down the hallway, sweat covering my face. I went to open the men's washroom when the door ripped open in front of me. It was the accountant guy. Fucking accountants. He smiled at me, waved his hand in front of his face and said "Hey, that wasn't me haha". Then the smile from his face dropped and I saw his nostrils dilate. I pushed past him, moved into the furthest stall, locked it, dropped my pants and looked at the damage. I'll spare you the details.
I took off my underwear and wrapped them in toilet paper. I wiped my areas from top to bottom, you guys know how it is. When my eyes reached the bottom my heart skipped a beat: not only were my white socks no longer white, my dress shoes looked like I'd been working construction in the spring. I sat there and cleaned up best that I could. I threw my underwear and socks in the trash can, toilet paper in the toilet and flushed. It didn't go. I tried again and the water quickly rose in tandem with my heartbeat. I ran from the washroom back towards the office.
I reached into my pocket for the key-fob to let me back in and once again found my spirits dissolved. I forgot the keys back on my desk. That meant I needed to ring the door bell and have someone let me in. Ding Dong. Please don't be the accountant guy, please don't be the accountant guy, plea- the accountant guy was standing right there with a stupid smile on his face. "Hey, you have a nice vacation? Did you bring me back a Chip-" I pushed past him while feigning a smile. But as I did, I saw a hint of something on his face. Worry? Concern? Whatever it was, I stopped caring. I made my way to my desk, grabbed my things and made to leave when something caught my eye. Something on the carpet in my cubicle. Something brown. No! I looked for something, anything to wipe it with but there was nothing. Curse the modern digital world. I huddled over to the intern's desk and found some papers, some sort of notes for a computer engineering project. I ripped the papers away, moved back to my desk, and used them to wipe the object from the carpet doing my best to minimize the stain. I folded the paper in half when suddenly, someone arrived at my cubicle. It was the boss.
"Hey man have a good weekend-" His eyes glanced at the piece of paper I was holding with a brown stain seeping through. I followed his eyes, and looked back at him. "hehe... Chipotle." I forced a smile. His came out more like a grimace. As soon as I heard the office door close behind him, I counted a few seconds and then booked it for the door. I yanked it open and found the intern standing right there. "Hey good timing!" He cheered. "I just realized I forgot my computer engineering project. It's due tonight!" I looked at him with my best poker face. "Well, good luck with that." I scurried towards the washroom hoping to throw his crap-stained project in the trashcan before anyone found out anything more when I was stopped cold in my tracks: Right in front of the men's washroom was a janitor lady talking in fast Spanish to another janitor man. They had the whole cleaning trolley with them and a sign was posted on the door that said "Out of Order". They watched as I speed-walked past them, down the stairs, out the front door, and towards my car. The paper was still in my hand, brownness seeping through with every passing moment. I saw my car in the parking lot and was almost running towards it when I saw possibly the last person I ever wanted to see.
Standing by the car next to mine was the fucking accountant guy. He was talking on a earpiece, so I figured he wasn't in his usual conversational mood. I tried to shimmy past him when I heard him say "One second". He turned towards me, grabbed the paper out of my hand and said "Hey, Chipotle guy, what's this?" He opened the paper and stared. Seconds took hours. I watched his face go from the usual punch-able accountant face, to confusion, to shock, and then to a sort of green color, his mouth agape with disgust. I snatched the paper out of his hand getting the brownness on my thumb. "It's the Chipotle you ordered. Have a nice weekend." I ran into my car and sped away.
Thanks for reading guys. It really helps to get this all of my chest. I guess I learned that this stuff really is all one day at a time and we can never get too cocky. From now on, I'm always bringing extra underwear, extra Jughead comics, and I'm going to make up an allergy that can get me out of Mexican food situations. This has really helped me let go of resentment, and I'm going to practice letting it all go, providing the fucking accountant guy won't get in my way. Thank you.
IWNDWYT (I Will Not Defecate With You Tonight).