The day was January 28, 2001. The weather in Jackson, Mississippi was pleasant during the day and very cold at night. I was in a toxic relationship. The Ravens and Giants were facing off in Super Bowl 37. I wish I could say that the day started out as any other day, but I would be lying if I said that.
Considering the size and contents of those death nachos, you’d think I would be full by this point, but apparently the tapeworm that lived in the bottom of this pit needed more.
A Rough Start
The day started badly. My girlfriend and I were bickering all morning. We’ll just call her Jane. I don’t even remember what we were arguing about, but I do remember that it wasn’t even lunch yet and I had already drank one pretty strong margarita and I was already planning another. I was essentially trying to drink the stress away as I began making the 2nd margarita. We’re talking Don Julio here too, the good stuff, not the cheap stuff. The 2nd margarita was my entire lunch. Well, that, and one prescription valium. I suppose I can’t skip that detail as it’s a major piece of this story.
The Day Goes On
As the day went on, the bickering slowed and it became sort of a typical lazy Sunday. But not really. There was no typical day in that relationship. It was a few short months of utter chaos. Anyway, I was very relaxed from my “lunch”. I think there may have been a nap or two in there somewhere also.
As late afternoon approached and we became civil with each other again, we got very hungry. Of course, with it being Super Bowl Sunday, we wanted to go somewhere where we could watch some of the Super Bowl or at least the commercials. So, we chose an Applebees which was a short five to ten minute drive away. By the time we arrived at Applebees, I was so incredibly hungry. I could have eaten anything. And don’t forget, I was in my early 20s. I was in great physical shape and could eat whatever I wanted and not gain an ounce. So, of course we ordered this ridiculous, gargantuan sized, loaded nachos of death platter. We (mostly me) ate the entire thing.
Considering the size and contents of those death nachos, you’d think I would be full by this point, but apparently the tapeworm that lived in the bottom of this pit needed more. So, I gave him more. I gave him chocolate cake. At the time it seemed like the sensible thing to do, but may prove to have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. The chocolate cake was excellent by the way. And finally, I was full. It was time to go, but I would never, ever forget what happened next.
As we began to walk out the door, I felt a little strange. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something wasn’t quite right. I paused for a moment as I tried to figure out what was going on, but things seemed to settle down within me, so we walked to the car. As we pulled out of the parking lot, that strange feeling returned, only this time I knew what it was and it wasn’t good. It hit me and it hit me hard. There were rumblings and there was pain and there was no denying it. As we stopped just short of exiting the parking lot, my girlfriend looked at me with a most confused look on her face and asked, “What in the world is going on?” She knew something wasn’t right.
By that point, I was unable to speak. Imagine Neo in the Matrix when the agents made his mouth melt shut. That! I could only stare at her with the most desperate look of helplessness. With my back fully arched, my head cocked back, my entire body clutched tightly, and my foot pinned against the brake pedal, I could barely see over the steering wheel. You’re probably still wondering what in the world was happening to me. We’ll get to that promptly. As my girlfriend stared at me, swiftly shaking her head “no”, back and forth, in confusion, I saw the panic on her face. She was so confused. I was not. By this point, I knew what was happening and it wasn’t good, but I was fighting. It was rope-a-dope at this point. In other words, how long can I last. Unfortunately, my time was running out. I knew this.
As my abdominal muscles begin to literally rip apart, I knew failure was imminent. Then it happened. The rumbling. The ripping of muscles. The force. All was lost. As she began to smell something not-so-great, she still didn’t realize the gravity of the situation. She thought I had passed gas, but in reality, it was coming out. It was coming out of me. It wasn’t gas either. It was somewhere between solid and liquid. And the smell. Oh the smell. Never before had I felt so helpless. I was an adult at the time. A typical, real-world adult, but I had just pooped all over myself. I was pooping all over myself. And the worst news was, there was no end in sight. This was like a fire hose. A slow, steady fire hose. As I regained my ability to speak, I fearfully informed her in a raspy, broken voice that no, it was not gas, that it indeed was “coming out” of me. The look of disappointment on her face said it all. The utter shock and disbelief on both of our faces screamed fear and uncertainty.
I jumped out of the back seat ran up the staircase, then across the balcony of the 2nd floor where everyone was watching me, including the lady coming down the staircase who yelled out, “HE’S NAKED, HE’S NAKED!”
By this time, we had rolled out into the road. We were at a traffic light and there was nowhere to go and nothing that could be done. As it continued to pour out of me like one of those dessert fountains at a wedding reception, the light finally turned green and we were off. By now, she had rolled all the windows down, including the moon roof. Oh, did I mention, it was 30 degrees outside. In Mississippi, 30 degrees is unbearable. You do not go outside when it’s that cold. As I drove down the road in utter panic, all I could think about was how I would get out of the clothes I was wearing.
I located a dumpster. My plan? I would pull over and jump out of the vehicle, take all my clothes off, throw them in the dumpster, then climb into the trunk. My girlfriend would then assume the controls and get us home safely. This plan could not fail.
The first part of the plan worked like a charm. I jumped out. I took all my clothes off, then I threw them into the dumpster. Did I mention, my clothes were soaking wet? I then climbed into the trunk. I noticed however, as I got out of the car, that there were puddles in the driver’s seat and in the driver’s floorboard. This caused my girlfriend to go into gagging convulsions. It was really bad.
Anyway, she did not agree with me getting in the trunk and would only drive if I agreed to ride in the back seat. I used two large windshield visors to block the wind from freezing me, however this approach was not very effective as I was in extreme pain from the cold as we blasted down the highway.
We arrived back at my apartment complex, where there were usually no people around, however this time there were people everywhere. Perhaps due to the Super Bowl or perhaps more likely due to the fact that I was completely naked, cold, and freezing. I didn’t know what to do, so of course I did what anyone would do in this situation. I jumped out of the back seat ran up the staircase, then across the balcony of the 2nd floor where everyone was watching me, including the lady coming down the staircase who yelled out, “HE’S NAKED, HE’S NAKED!”
As I frantically knocked on the door of my apartment, my roommate came to the door with the most puzzled look you can possibly imagine on his face. He stared at me for a few moments before letting me in. I ran in and immediately jumped in the shower while my girlfriend cleaned everything out of the car. Why she did this I do not know. I’m just glad I didn’t have to do it. More power to her!
My exercise physiology friend informed me that the valium in addition to the tequila in the margaritas had relaxed my muscles so much that I didn’t have full control over them. Yeah, I would say he was right. In fact, I also tore several stomach muscles that day trying to fight back the unstoppable rebel force that was powering its way out of me.
So, on that day. January 28, 2001. The day of Super Bowl 37, where the New York Giants were destroyed by the Baltimore Ravens, I was also destroyed by a team of Valium, Tequila, Loaded Nachos, Cola, and Chocolate Cake, the only undefeated team other than the 1972 Miami Dolphins.
Woe is me.