I simply don’t remember any ball or lump or warm moisture on my thigh at all. I attribute this to the fact that I’m using a cold restroom and perhaps my legs are still numbed by the outdoor 27 degree chilly air.
But somehow, I’ve managed to poop the blackest tar of a poop out and while checking the bowl to make sure it dropped in, I must have unwittingly sat on a ginormous dingleberry of cookie dough proportions. And then I unwittingly had wiped my butt ‘clean’, and unwittingly pulled up my panties and 3 layers of silk/wool/rented waterproof dry pants OVER my baseball sized, watery poop wad.
It was only when I looked down at my somehow streaked hands did it dawn on me that I’m an idiot. And these are the only clothes I have…. for the next 3 nights.
You see, I’m winter backpacking. When you winter backpack, it’s rare to take a full bath and therefore, most people just remain in the same clothes the entire time and just wash their face and extremities. So these ARE my clothes… And to top it all off, I’m travelling with a hot guy I met two years ago that I call my “international-flirt-monster-who-just-happens-to-be-in-Utah-for-the-next-few-days-want-to-go-on-a-winter-river-backpacking-journey-that-will-make-you-question-your-ability-to-continue-living-a-normal-life-in-Los-Angeles”?
So I’m trying to be sexy and coy, all while being standoffish (I’m engaged!) and tough and intelligently outdoorsy. So I’m trying to be that cool chick.. and that’s fairly difficult when you’ve got poop on your left ass.
“Ah shit!” I cry (appropriately), and hastily pull off my pants… but the tightness of the pants have caused the poop dough to be DRAGGED down the entire length of my left leg. I stare at poop wad as it sits prettily next to my ankle. It sits atop the black neoprene of the waistbelt of my rented dry pants. I panic. So somehow this means ‘shake the pants violently causing the little ball to bounce off and roll under the door into the neighboring stall’.
Frustrated, I pick up the ball and throw it into the toilet (where it SHOULD have gone). Now there’s poop stains on the wrists of my high tech water repellent jacket!
I peek outside of my stall. No one.
Instantly, I hop out -my pants still collected at my ankles- and rush to the paper towel dispenser. It’s one of those motion sensor ones, so I’m frantically waving my hand in front of it and I get… one sheet.
Fine! That’s enough. I hop over to the faucet. Wet wet wet! Hop back into my stall. I take the wet paper towel and rub hard on my leg, trying to remove the remnants of potato poop. But alas! The towel is too wet! It only makes the poop liquify and now it’s dripping down even more towards my ankle! Grab toilet paper! Dry dry dry!
Crap! There’s still poop on the INSIDE of my silk long underwear!
I peek outside again. No one.
This process is going to take a while.