shitting my PANTS

I once shit my pants on a school bus of my swim teammates.. and no on knew.

It was a trip back from a state event, meaning we just swam against every team in the state to prove we may be a valid reason each team in Indiana (one of the top swimming states in the US, only second to New York I believe… at the time at least) might have to worry about.

Unlike football in Indiana, all schools of all sizes compete for the title of ‘ STATE CHAMPION”

We ended up finishing 8th. Which is insanely impressive because we were a 2A school and we beat out 5A schools. To explain in Indiana you work on a bases of 1A to 5A to tab to classify your school by size. The more people… the higher the number.

To break it down, We were 2A school, and we had 13 people on our swim team. Riley was our ridiculous rivalry (I say ridiculous because there should be no reason we were competitors considering the size of our team)  and they typically had 40 peoeple on their swim team and were a 5A school. They made buttons with our Bremen “B” and a no smoking symbol style logo through it. It was pure hatred for one another. None of it made sense to me.

Yet we kicked the shit out of that team every year I swam. That year we also beat out another 5A competitor by the name of Penn. Penn was another 5A school we handed their asses to, and beat at State. We created a saying that “8 is great, 9 is fine, 10 is Penn”. We were the 8th placed team. It was a 300 moment to us… 13 men.. so many Persians.

All of that out of the way…. I can explain the “SHiT”

After leaving the State event with glory in our hearts and teammates chanting on the bus, both male and female, my tummy began to rumble. I yelled to my savage of a coach “Coach can we stop, I really have to use the restroom” he replied, “We can’t stop now Rossi wait it out”. My guts did not agree with that comment.

I sat on my heels praying I wouldn’t do what I was about to do. I looked at the small trash can every school bus has in the back by that emergency door thinking “I could just shit in that”. Instead my bowels opened up like a Dairy Queen soft serve machine and I shit myself worse than I ever have before. It went on for what felt a lifetime. The moment I finished my soft serve cone, my coach yells out “ROSSI WE ARE STOPPING”.

The timing could have not been more perfect, no one got to smell my Soft Serve delivery to my undies. Once we stopped I ran into the restroom, cleaned myself up and ditched the boxers I gave my “Sweet Treat/Hot Eat”. I got back on the bus and no one knew.

I told my brother years ago…. now I’m telling all of you.. I shit my pants. On a bus. In front of girls. Virgin til 20 makes sense now.

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