Poo

Late night poker leaves me disoriented the next day. Its like I went to see a stripper, in that I got f***** for money. In addition, I can never sleep late, which is annoying when I wake up on the same schedule that I do during the week, 7 AM. Of course, I had to set my alarm for 7:30, an emergency precaution since I always wake up at 7 AM. I hadn’t heard my alarm sound for three months before this morning, when that incessant ripping beep made me stumble out of bed and hit every button on the alarm clock, dimming it, turning on the radio, resetting the alarm time, knocking my desk into increased disarray, until it shut off. Damned box.

When I left the apartment, I wasn’t in the clearest state of mind. Sure I knew that it was time to go to the doctor, but beyond that, it was mostly autopilot and reflex that got me going to the car, putting the keys in the ignition, driving away.

As I got going on I-95, the unmistakable foul stench of feces assaulted my nose. As I drove, it got stronger, much as some horses get faster during the latter stages of a race. Was it me? I started sniffing my armpits, but to no avail. The smell was everywhere. Had someone taken my car keys and used my backseat as a toilet? I looked in the backseat, but couldn’t see anything.

Had I soiled myself?

I thought that it was pretty impossible, but stranger things had happened. I hadn’t felt anything release, and yet, the stench of waste lingered like a bad memory. I started squirming in my seat, waiting to see if it squished back, to confirm my fears. For about thirty seconds, I rocked to and fro in my car, waiting for a slushy slide. Then, I looked up. Damned if up ahead, there wasn’t a tractor trailer with an open trailer, tarp-covered. I was so happy I hadn’t messed myself I almost messed myself.

I pushed the S.S. (my car) past the tractor trailer, rather pleased with my intuition and deduction. Of course, the smell gets even worse, as if I was sitting in a bathroom on bad shrimp night. Up ahead, a second tractor trailer, with an open trailer, tarp-covered. Damn. Push the S.S., get ahead of that, and the smell gets even worse.

I had to have soiled myself.

At last, up ahead there was a dump truck with a tarp on it. The landscaping company advertised mulch delivered right to your door. They also advertised by offering free aerated samples to anyone within a half mile radius. I got upwind of the bastard, and the smell receded.

If only there were some greater lesson to take from this incident, or some interesting thought to mull over. Maybe, be sure you’re awake before you go forth from your house, so you can be aware of what’s going on. Instead, I give you feces. I apologize.