My Summer Vacation: Pooping in the Safeway Parking Lot
Why we should never dismiss our health concerns
“I apologize for the rancid smell,” Mitch, the Safeway manager, told me. He was helping me look for my phone in the parking lot during a torrential downpour and refused to let me share my umbrella with him. He peered down the row of stacked shopping carts, sniffed, and made a gagging noise.
“I mean, seriously. What in God’s name is that?” He exclaimed.
“Um, that’s me.” I stuttered.
Mitch laughed at my non-joke, but I’d spent the better part of a week smelling like a cross between a cranky, diapered toddler and an angry, sick horse. I knew what had just happened. I thanked Mitch for his help, fought back the tears, and with a lurched-over limp, managed to make my way back to my car.
I discovered I’d unwittingly let my phone spill to my driver’s seat on my first attempt to leave the store–I waved it out of my driver’s window for Mitch to see and prayed I wouldn’t have another “Oops! I Crapped My Pants” moment before I made it home. Pooping in the Safeway parking lot was not on my summer vacation bucket list.
