The Poop Card

I went to school in po-dunk Louisiana, and the closest mall was an hour away. There wasn't anything between my school and the Alexandria (the city with the mall). Literally nothing. 45 miles of interstate with no gas station or anything at all. So you can see, it's important to get it done before leaving the city.

I was with some friends and we were leaving the city when we decided to stop at Sonic on the way out. (BTW, Sonic has inspired me to create another thread, look for it!). I don't know why, but for some reason I got a foot long chilidog. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We finish eating and are leaving town. We hit a bookstore on the way out which gave the dog time to "ferment." We drove about 15 miles on the interstate when the contractions began. I knew immediately that we were at Defcon 3, moving up the scale fast.

My options were to try to make it another 30 miles (no freakin' way) or turn around and hit the last gas station about 10 miles back. Obviously I had to turn around so, despite the grumblings from my friends, I turn around. As we're heading back I realize that it's going to be close. So I decide to risk speeding. The limit was 70 and I started pushing 90. As luck would have it a cop saw us and pulled us over.

As he was sitting in his car behind us I was starting to get the cold sweats. Risking getting shot, I jump out of the car and start walking towards him. He tells me to stay at my car. I realize this can't happen and raise my arms and continue to walk towards him. I shout to him that I've got an issue here. He comes up to me and asks what the problem is. I tell him, "Sir, I'm lactose intolerant," (not sure where that came from) "and I must have eaten some cheese and I'm about to poop my pants. You're welcome to follow me to the Chevron and write me a ticket when I'm done but I've got to go now!" I say this as I'm dancing back and forth in front of him.

He looks me up and down, pauses, and says, "Go." I ran back to the car and get in. One friend in the back is shaking his head saying, "no way that worked, no way that worked." I drive off and the cop escorts me to the Chevron. I run in, he apparently was convinced that I was telling the truth and leaves. It's the first (and last) time I've had a police escort to use the bathroom.

Funny enough, I didn't learn from this experience. Weeks later I was returning from visiting my girlfriend at her school when I was pulled over. The first thing the officer asked me was if I had some kind of medical emergency. I said, "no" and got a ticket. Should've played the poop card again. .

(From CQ Reader)