For The Love Of Tacos

During one of the brief times that I was actually in a serious relationship, I dated a Hispanic girl. In my opinion she was way out of my league. A lot better looking than me, way smarter than me and she had good credit, so naturally I couldn’t compete. She was so good-looking when we would go out people would assume I was her brother (I know what your thinking and yes, she was a dark-skinned Hispanic). We got to be very close to each other she was a good girl and no hoeish tendencies as far as I could see, so things were good. One night we decided to go out to On The Boarder.

On The Boarder is basically your average franchised two star restaurant. Much like Applebees or Chili’s. When we arrived much to my surprise it was, eat a shit load of tacos for a really cheap night. Now I really don’t care for the Mexican people that much, with the exception of George Lopez and the guy who created Taco Bell. However, when it comes to Mexican food I get overly excited, like R.Kelly at Jonas Brothers concert. There’s only one food I like better and that’s Italian and depending on my mood even that’s negotiable. So when I seen how cheap the tacos were I couldn’t control myself. I had chicken tacos, beef tacos, pork tacos, all smothered in queso, sour cream, and jalapeño with the hottest salsa they served. I even think I tried a fish taco, but those are for metro-sexuals. I ate so many damn tacos, by the time we left I felt like I was half Mexican, minus the nice straight hair and fucked up accent.

As we got into the car I felt stuffed but satisfied. It felt as if you would have touched my stomach, I would have exploded. About five minutes into the twenty five minute ride, something isn’t right. My stomach starts to make a loud growling noise. I glance over at my date with a smile, and she smiles back. OKAY, good I don’t think she heard anything. Seven minutes into the ride, GRRRRFFFFFPHHH!!, there it goes again. This time it was really loud and intense. I swear I thought I felt mine spine vibrate. I look over at my date again and I couldn’t hide this rumble. So I simply smiled held my stomach and said “Whew must have eaten too much” in a playful tone. At this point I already knew what was happening.

See, I had the pleasure of being born with a huge appetite for cheesy refried bean covered dishes. Unfortunately I was also born with the stomach of a Nine year old girl Crohns Disease. So at best I should have had two tacos minus, the extra queso, jalapeño and extra hot salsa. But instead I ventured into taco paradise and decided to try to eat my body weight in tacos, which was very stupid on my part and not only was I about to pay for it but so was my date.

Fifteen minutes into the ride I can slowly feel the sludge making its way through my small intestine. I was like a ticking time bomb and it was only a matter of time before I would spontaneous combust. Twenty two minutes; “ding-dong” it’s my intestines, with a special delivery for my anus. I clinch up my ass cheeks and put the pedal to the floor, this delivery will have to wait. Twenty three minutes, although we are only two minutes from our destination, I am seriously contemplating pulling over at the nearest gas station to release my bowels. One minute to go and I’m sweating profusely, clinching the steering wheel just as tight as I’m clinching my ass together. My date is talking to me but I am tuning her out with all my concentration focused on keeping my intestine from emptying out onto the car seat.

We finally make it to her apartment and I dash inside as fast as my clinched butt cheeks will allow me. I am holding my stomach because it now feels like I am about to give birth to triplets through my asshole. I am also loudly cursing On The Boarder, the tacos I just ate and my pathetic 9-year-old girl stomach. I finally make it to the toilet sit down and release ass muscles.Immediately ten plus ounces of chili textured tacos explode out of my ass with the same intensity of Usain Bolt exploding out of Olympic starting blocks. It came out so hard that I was sure it would have dragged my colon out along with it. As it hit the toilet water, I could feel the back-splash of water/poop mixture splashing back up on to my ass. I never had more respect for gravity in my life. Half way into the steady stream of poo-fondu the fire hit me. If you ever wondered what it would feel like to have Mario and Luigi shoot fire balls out your rectum, then try OTB’s jalapeños and hot salsa. It literally felt like the devil was raping me with a molten two by four. Even after the flow a liquid poop finally stopped the fire was still there. I sat for a while waiting on a second wave that never came. Although I did poo a lot, I was sure I still had a few tacos, chips and salsa left in me.

After a shit of that magnitude I was exhausted, like a New Yorker running from the World Trade Center. I cleaned my ass off as best as I could, wet a hand full of toilet paper with cold water and jammed it between my ass cheeks to sooth the after-burn, then through myself into bed butt ass naked, curled into the fettle position and went to sleep. This didn’t faze my date one bet she climbed right into bed with me like nothing ever happened.

While I was asleep, I remember letting out a series of inhuman farts. With each one feeling like pure jalapeños coming out of my ass. Then GGGRRRRRTH, my spine is vibrating again. I shake it off and continue to release the gas built up in my stomach. Then one fart through me a curveball. As I released it, it seemed a little bit warmer than the others. It also sounded a little different from the others. Instead of a “POOF” sound it made more of a “SQUIRT” sound. Uh oh say it ain’t so, I did not just shit in this woman’s bed! I reach back behind me to feel the sheets, and got a hand full of shitty toilet paper. I’m sure I don’t have to explain where that came from. Surrounding the toilet paper was a tiny liquid shit stain (FML). I jump out of the bed as quiet as possible and throw the tissue in the toilet. I’m brain storming ways to get out of this. Leaving wasn’t an option, blaming her wasn’t an option, cleaning it up and pretending it was there wasn’t an option, Fuck! With my stomach now in a knot, I decided to get the rest of these tacos out of me while I think of a plan.

As soon as I get out the bed I can hear her shifting around. Oh god please don’t let her roll over into the shit PLEASE! I wasn’t worried about this cuz it would be disgusting. I was worried because she was hot, and I enjoyed fucking her and if she ended up with my shit anywhere on her it would make me not want to fuck her ever again. I hurry up and finish shitting, run back into the room, and whew, the shit stain was untouched. With no clear plan out, I did the only thing I could do. I walked over to her side of the bed, gently woke her up, then whispered to her “I think I shit in your bed”. She didn’t respond at first so I did it again, “I think I shit in your bed, I’m really sorry though”.

You have no idea how humiliating it is to have to wake a chick up and explain to her that you pooped in her bed. Nothing compares to this, NOTHING. I expected her to get up and curse me out in Spanglish. Maybe pull out a straight razor threaten to cut my balls off then chase me up the street naked. But she didn’t. She got up looked at the damage. Pulled every piece of linen off the bed, including the pillow cases, threw it all in the washer, bleached about a whole square foot of the mattress, applied new linens, then went back to bed. She never even flinched. The next morning we woke up and she never even mentioned it. She act like it never happened and so did. She didn’t look at me funny, she didn’t crack a joke about it. It was basically just another night cleaning up a grown mans shit. But from that moment on I decided if I am dumb enough to ever get married I MUST marry a Latin chick.