Me circa 2010
By Sean Sears
I promised embarrassing stories when starting this blog, so I’ve retreated deep into my repressed memories to dig up some great and totally awful stories about myself. As truly horrifyingly funny as this story will be for me, I have to warn anyone who might be offended or off put by gross bodily function type of stuff. (I’m going to be talking about poop people). So, you’ve been warned.
Here we go……
This story is from the first semester of my senior year of high school (2010), in my urban history class. The class was all about Chicago, the history of the city and how different areas of the city became what they are today. What made the class appealing to most people were all the field trips the class took, visiting different museums, unique neighborhoods, bike rides on the lake front etc. It was an awesome class, and something I had been looking forward to at the beginning of the year. But the field trip I was most looking forward to was a kayak trip on the Chicago River, starting on the North side of the city we would make our way all the way down to the South side. So we arrived to the starting point early on a comfortable September morning. The school had provided snacks and bottles of water to bring with us during the trip as everyone had congregated around the free food. As I made my way to the table to grab a cereal bar, the teacher’s running the field trip reminded us multiple times to use the portable bathrooms before the trip started.
“We will not be stopping during our trip, so go now or hold it for the next 4 hours.”
So everyone shifted from the food to waiting in line to use the bathroom, me included. But after waiting for 15 minutes, the Kayak rental company was starting to distribute Kayaks, so I decided I would be fine and made my way towards the dock. The kayak rental employee walked the class through the basic rules and expectations of kayakers on the river. Nobody paid attention, and the employee could tell, giving us a very unenthused walk through. He paused for a second and told everyone to claim a Kayak, and everyone scrambled to their favorite color. My friend Chris and I got situated, as we both sat there wadding in the water. It was about 5 minutes in when I realized how badly I had to go pee.
The first hour or so was easy, I just focused on paddling and gazing at the skyscrapers around me. I was talking with my other friends on the trip, all of us pointing out buildings we thought were the Sears Tower. It really could’ve been a fun trip had I just peed before the stupid thing started. But as I made my way further down the Chicago River, it became harder to ignore my need to relieve myself. Being surrounded by water wasn’t making my situation any easier either. I started to shift back and forth in the kayak and eventually my friend started to notice and asked if I was alright. I answered.
“I’ve really gotta pee”
“Oh me too man.”
So we were in this together. I found some strange comfort knowing that Chris was trying to not piss his pants too, which also made me realize how weird of a place I was in. For the next hour we would share dream scenarios where the trip would just randomly stop for a lunch break and we could go pee, or we’d wrap around a corner and just be at our stopping point.
Luke Skywalker can relate to a homie
After about an hour of day dreaming, we started to become desperate. Chris emptied his water bottle and decided he’d pee into a bottle. It was a pretty simple idea but being surrounded by classmates, teachers and the general public made it hard to pee in a bottle without being caught. So we started to drop back a bit, and decided with plenty of bridges coming towards us, if Chris could time it right, he would have a window to shamefully pee in the plastic ice mountain bottle. It took about 15 minutes but finally we approached a bridge in an area that wasn’t crowded. As we started to slip towards the back of our group, the nose of our Kayak and Chris’s junk were on the cusp of entering their perfect storm of scenarios, right as we collided with some teachers. Chris dropped the bottle during impact, and quickly covered his exposed parts. I distracted the teachers (both female, by the way) enough to allow Chris to pull himself inside his pants, but we had failed miserable. The teachers apologized and questioned why we were moving so slowly. We decided to play the bitch card and say we were tired.
They could smell our desperation.
After about another 45 minutes, Chris lost all self-respect and went rogue.
“I think I’m just gonna fake sick.”
I thought it was a lame idea, but I had nothing to lose in this situation so I told him to go for it. So we started to slow down again, but only this time we slowly began to paddle softer, in hopes a teacher would find something wrong a little more believable. We were going full DiCaprio on this one. Finally, the teachers had caught up to us again, and Chris did the best fake sick act he would muster without peeing all over.
“Hey, I’m really not feeling well, do you think we could stop somewhere so I could use the bathroom?”
Chris had probably picked the worst teacher to ask this to. This particular teacher was more than likely on this trip to impress some of the woman teachers with his sleeve less shirt and his paddling ability. Without even looking at us, he responded, “We’re almost there, just a few more miles.”
I could hear my bladder sigh. I was ready to give up, but Chris refused to accept that answer.
“No please, I’m really not feeling good. Do you think we could just stop for like two minutes so I can get sick really quick and then come back?”
Picture this guy, but 40 and sunglasses.
The teacher became frustrated with Chris, but didn’t show it in his voice, just in the way he whipped his sunglasses off.
“Sorry man, there’s no place to stop. Just hold on a little longer and if you get sick just aim for the water.”
What kind of answer is that? ‘Hey if you get sick, just throw up in the in the water or something kid, I don’t give shit.’
We both came to the realization we were going to pee our pants shortly after that. We talked about it, and both decided that we’d pee our pants and pour water over our pants to make it look like we splashed ourselves. We didn’t care anymore, we just wanted to be able to sit in a somewhat comfortable position. I didn’t think sitting in our own pissed in pants would be comfortable, but I was tired of feeling the desperate need to pee.
So, I gave up and just let go….. And nothing happened. I tried pushing, but it just hurt my stomach.
I had been holding it so long and built up so much pressure I couldn’t pee sitting down. I kept trying to force it out, but nothing would happen unless I stood up.
I couldn’t even pee my pants if I wanted to.
Chris and I just kept paddling, hating our lives, dealing with the uncomfortable feeling of our bladders constantly burning and pushing. Until finally, we saw the dock. We saw the line of Kayaks waiting to be let out of the water.
We were home free.
The only problem was everyone was lined up on the opposite side our exiting dock. They were waiting for a barge to pass them before they went towards the dock. The instructors had explained to us before we got into the Kayaks, we had to let the barges pass us. The boats have a hard time seeing our kayaks when we are in front of them, and when passing by, the barge creates large waves that could potentially capsize our kayaks. Both Chris and I saw our chance.
We cut across the River, paddling harder than we had before, as the biggest barge we’d seen all day was barreling towards us. It felt like the scene from the perfect storm when the boat was literally parallel with the wave, except it was just a big boat honking its horn at us while we paddled across the river at a rather slow and awkward rate. Chris kept yelling commands like we had an actual crew on the kayak, saying stuff like “Keep pushing” or “Steady”. He was George Clooney’s character navigating our boat, while I was Mark Wahlberg’s, ensuring we would clear the barge in time.
We had both officially gone insane.
After being yelled at from behind by a few teachers and flipped off by the people on the barge, we had made it to the dock, while also cutting my entire class, who all apparently went pee before this kayaking trip. Chris and I were pulled towards the dock and wasted no time running to the bathroom. I allowed Chris to go first, since he was our captain. And after the longest 3 minutes of my life, that including some shameless crotch grabbing and uncomfortable dancing, I was finally able to pee.
Victory had never been sweeter.
Nobody in the class said or mentioned anything about our incident, which I thought was weird. But I guess cutting off a giant barge to run right into a bathroom was telling enough. A few teachers talked to us, but after we explained the situation they just laughed and never said anything about it again. We had made it home free. We were safe finally. It was nice remembering what an empty bladder felt like. I told myself I would appreciate the simple things in life from here on out.
We were at probably the only burger joint in Chicago’s Chinatown, and the food was not the best and rather greasy. Having relieved myself only a few shorts minutes before, the food shot right through me and the bus ride home made me relive old memories sooner than anyone should ever have to hope.
I had to poop. And this time, my body was weak and we had an hour or so long bus ride back home. We got back to school just as the day had ended, so everyone was leaving. I felt rushed. I got off the bus, and did my best to run-walk my way to the closest bathroom. I was running out of time, as I could feel my stomach churning. I made my way up the stairs outside the school and walked into the building. There were bathrooms right when I walked in, but I knew people were going to be passing by. I didn’t want them to hear, or worse smell, what I was about to do. So, I decided to find a more remote bathroom spot in the school. I made it four steps before I realized this was a mistake, as I swung back around towards the bathroom…..it was too late.
I grabbed my butt, hoping this would somehow help, but knew it was a lost cause. I got through the entrance of the bathroom and started unbuckling, as I ran into the closest stall to shit my brains outs.
The smell was terrible. I never realize how important the water in the toilet bowl was until that day. Luckily I was alone for the entire act, but when I was finally finished up, I had to deal with my boxers. They were out of commission without a doubt, but I didn’t know whether to throw them away or flush them. I was cleaning myself up in the stall when two people walked in, and instantly remarked on the devastation. They stayed for about 10 seconds before wondering out loud if the guy in the stall had shit his pants, and left.
Yeah. He did.
I took some time to gather myself, and then I pulled my pants up, wrapped my hands in toilet paper, picked up the defecated boxers, plopped them on the back of the toilet seat and ran. I drove home commando style, hopped in shower, and reflected on the day I had just had.
Sometimes, shit just happens.
Modern Barbershop 