That Wasn’t Water
As soon as I swallowed it was already too late. I had grabbed the wrong water bottle and taken a large gulp. I started to sweat. I was nodding in and out of consciousness. I knew I needed to get off at the next exit before I passed out behind the wheel.
I was leaving Philly on a Saturday morning driving to Reading, Pennsylvania to visit friends. It’s about an hour drive if traffic isn’t too bad. But, traffic is always bad driving on route 76. I sat there in gridlock. I was thirsty and reached into my backpack to grab my bottle of water.
I made a big mistake forgetting that I had two water bottles in my bag. One filled with water, the other filled with GHB. There’s a huge difference between a sip of each. I drank a mouthful. I needed to get off the road quickly.
I took the first exit I saw. I made my way to a more secluded location between an industrial area and a small patch of woods next to the Schuylkill river. I parked my car and put the keys under my wheel well in case a cop came by. I felt myself about to vomit.
I flung open my car door and violently threw up. The vomit splattered off the ground and little chunks of it made its way into my car and onto my clothes. The putrid smell made me gag and I threw up again.
I closed the door and laid back in my seat. It was spring time and it was rather warm in my car. I was sweating profusely. I fell asleep for maybe 30 minutes when the uncontrollable urge to shit woke me up.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but if I didn’t act soon I was going to shit my pants. I sprung out of my car and raced into the woods. I found a stump and anchored myself against it. I pulled down my pants and let loose. It was awful. The equivalent of soft serve spewing out of my ass.
I was so relieved that I was able to safely clear my bowels that I didn’t think about how I was going to clean up. I looked around for leaves I could use. I’m not much of an outdoorsman so I was afraid that I may wipe my ass with something poisonous.
I had a nice shirt on so I didn’t want to use that. Then it hit me. Why don’t I use my wife beater? I was standing on the side of the Schuylkill River with limited coverage from traffic, naked with my pants around my ankles, wiping my ass with a wife beater.
I was careful to clean the shit particles that had attached to my legs and balls and threw the wife beater on the ground. I stumbled back to my car and passed out for a couple of hours. When I woke up I continued on my journey to visit my friends, unphased from the mornings activities.