That moment when you have to drop a deuce, it won’t flush, you decide to throw it out the window…and then you get stuck in the window? THAT HAPPENED.
On a somewhat related note, in college, I was invited by a girl I had an insane crush on to come out to Montauk point on Long Island to hang out over Easter weekend, with her and some girlfriends. I went to school in Connecticut, and as I always willing to drive a ridiculous amount of miles for even the remote opportunity to have sex, I willingly hopped into my car and drove the nearly four hours to get there.
It was my crush and seven or eight girls all in a 2 bedroom motel room and in the middle of the night there was a sharp pressure on my colon. Most of the party, including myself, were all sleeping on couches, or like myself on the floor. I got up, gingerly made myself to the bathroom, was relieved the fan wasn’t loud, relieved to relieve my colon and flushed the toilet.
The sound of the toilet was akin to a small, powerful jet taking off. This thing was LOUD! The girls in the living room all woke up and while I’m pretty sure there wasn’t an offending smell, my fear was that the very sound of the flush bared witness to what I was doing in the can (after all, why flush, right?). I recall all eyes being on me at 2:30 a.m., slinking back to my spot on the floor, thankful for that moment at least, that my crush was sleeping in one of the bedrooms.