Oh no, you read that right. My one night stand did indeed shat himself. And the best part? The idiot left it there and ran away.
It was a Friday night of October. I’m kidding, it was a normal Tuesday in March when me and my mates were simply bored. And what better solution when you are bored than to just go out, right?
We all got dressed up, ‘Party in the USA’ by Miley Cyrus playing in the background and double vodkas going down our throats. It was a vibe. Fair to say that by the time we got to the bar we were off our tits. You know what they say, go crazy or go home.
As time went by, I saw him. The prince of my dreams. Tall, dark blonde hair, and very handsome. And just like that my doubles turned into quadruples, and my vagina took over my brain.
He came back to mine, clothes vanished like magic and my teddies witnessed something very unorthodox. Little did I know I would end up joining them in the group of witnessing something mind-blowing. Once we finished having sex, he suddenly got up.
Like, fucking hell, not even a five minute cuddle? Oh well, it be like that sometimes. But then something was weird, he was holding his hand on his ass and looking in all directions but mine.
‘Do I have something on my face?’ I thought to myself. Why can’t this guy look me in the eyes?
Then he started walking sideways like a fucking crab, still holding his hand on his ass like he was shy or something.
Like come on now, we’ve already seen each others genitals, and if you wanted to cover something, it should probably be your dick not your ass.
Then the sudden realisation hit me.
“There’s no way”, I told myself. I mean, what are the fucking odds of this guy shitting himself right after we had sex?
I asked him if he needed the toilet. But I guess it was too late ’cause while I tried to come up with something to make him feel less embarrassed, he proceeded to take a shit right on my white marble rug.
Baffled was beyond how I felt in that moment. We both froze. He was looking at me in horror and I was looking at him in shock. Cause lets be honest, it’s not every day your one night stand shits himself on your floor after you just had sex.
And to make things worse, the fucker left it there and ran out of my apartment. Yes, you read that right, he shat himself, left it there and left. Gone. Poof. Abracadabra.
It took me a few minutes to realise what just happened, and when I finally came to my senses, which made me sick to my stomach, I got up and screamed my flatmate’s name.
Bless her soul, she thought I was being robbed or some shit. Imagine that. Honestly in that moment, I wouldn’t have been surprised. That bloke was definitely something unique.
She was as shocked as I was. And can you blame her? That was probably the last thing she expected to see in my room. And trust me, that girl saw a lot.
Anyhow, I went down the street at the corner shop and bought 3 bottles of bleach and 5 packs of gloves cause there was no fucking way in hell I was getting any of that shit, no, really, on my freaking hands. The old cashier probably thought I killed someone and was trying to hide my traces. I mean, what else would you think when a 5ft2 girl comes in at 3am to buy bleach and gloves?
It’s fair to say that no boy is coming back to my place anytime soon.
Edited by Elena Baeza Ruso
