When I first moved to Kansas City in 2006 from Oklahoma after college, I decided to live downtown. I thought it would be fun to spend my young 20’s living in the center of the city. Was it awesome? Nah. It was very okay though. I mean, this is Kansas City, not L.A. There are things to do here, but they’re not always easy to find. So even though I lived in the center, I wasn’t necessarily close to anything fun to do. All the fun was to be had in the suburbs which were all equidistant from my place.
In an effort to bring people back downtown again, the city decided to renovate a section of downtown and call it The Power & Light District (yay, gentrification). It would be full of bars and restaurants hoping to invite people seeking to enjoy the downtown nightlife. It would be directly adjacent to the College Basketball Experience (the College Basketball Hall of Fame) and the newly built Sprint Center, which the city would use to try to lure the Seattle Supersonics to town (Hahahahaha!!).
The P&L District was finished during the time that I lived downtown, and my girlfriend at the time and I wanted to be some of the firsts to check it out. So we did. One night, she came by, and I drove the ridiculously short distance (about five blocks) so that she wouldn’t have to walk all the way back to my place in a pair of those torture trap shoes that girls often wear to see how much pain they can endure only to find that they can’t endure as much pain as they previously thought the could. I parked, and we perused. Neither of us were overly impressed, but it was new and had some luster. Some new restaurants to try. A crazy expensive bowling alley to check out. All good. We decided we’d seen what we needed to see, and we could leave knowing that we now had a good picture of the type of area this would be (picture hundreds of drunk people yelling “woooo” at random times).
As we were walking back to my car, we came to an intersection and had to wait on the street light to change. It changed, and we started walking. As we crossed, directly in front of us there was a crowd people, coming and going in all directions. Clearly, we weren’t the only ones trying to check out downtown Kansas City’s newest draw. In front of us on the sidewalk, we noticed a couple walking perpendicular to our direction headed to P&L. I didn’t notice anything special about the guy. The girl, though, was dressed like she wanted to make an impression. She was blonde, with a nice figure. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress and some get’em shoes (you know, the shoes that girls wear to make their legs and everything look just right so guys notice, then when she’s telling her girls about it, she can say “girl, I got ‘eeeeeem”, or whatever).
We had walked about halfway across the intersection when something strange happened. The girl in the black dress suddenly stopped, let out some sort of quick scream, then ran to a nearby building pillar and put her back to it. Most of the people moving around her stopped. The guy had walked a little ahead of her, so when he heard her, he turned back around, looked at her in shock, and screamed, “Why didn’t you tell me?!!” She was speechless. She made sounds, but no words came out. He ran over, grabbed her by the arm, and the two of them started walking briskly back the other direction to his car, which just happened to be near mine.
My date and I, still crossing, were puzzled until we finally got to the other side of the street and saw what had happened. There, in the middle of a crowd of people walking on the sidewalk, was a small pile of human feces with a huge brown puddle around it. Yep… Ol’ girl’s bowels were loosed. She boo boo’d right there on the sidewalk.
We were floored. Not literally floored, of course, because there was boo boo on the sidewalk. I worried for the people who would undoubtedly walk through it and ruin their shoes. Ain’t no coming back from that. That puddle was freakin huge.
So we continued walking to my car, only now we’re paying attention to the couple walking in front of us. She was frantic. He was mad. She had this big brown stain on the back of her dress and the remnants of a brown stream going down the back of one of her legs. Boo boo everywhere. They finally got near his car when he seemed to realize that he couldn’t just let this chick back into his ride like this. So he started looking for some place he could go to get something to help her wipe herself down. While he was gone, she stood outside crying, trying to wipe her leg off on a wall.
We walked the rest of the way to my car, and left. I don’t know what happened next. I don’t know if she ever got cleaned up enough to ride in his car. I don’t know if this was the event that broke them up. I don’t know if that boo boo stain is still on the sidewalk or on the side of that building. I haven’t walked that way since.
So that’s the story. As unbelievable as I know it sounds, it’s 100% true. The moral of the story is don’t dress up nice if you plan to boo boo all over yourself. Unadvice from me for free. You’re welcome.