My day at the tennis courts was one I would like to forget, but the tale I will tell lives on.The graphic nature of this experience is what stands out the most, as well as the stupidity of my young self. The only thing I could think of, was how great of a story it will be to tell people in the future. My embarrassment was unmatched, my dignity shattered and what was left of me was pure shame. My confidence in my appetite had the best of me and the terror that ensued was catastrophic.

A hot summer day and a great day of tennis was planned for Jimmy and me. Jim called my house and asked for me to play with him. I accepted the offer, but I told him I had to eat lunch with my family first. The choice of lunch for the day was Wendy’s, my favorite. I didn’t feel very hungry, yet I went on to order my usual helping: three double stacks, fries and a large root beer float .

I dug into the food, scarfing it down like a wild animal. Eating it very quickly, until something felt very wrong with my stomach. I ate the food too fast and I was not hungry, like I said in the first place. I was either going to puke, or have it come out the other end,I felt as if I had a bowling ball in my stomach. I remained sick, but didn’t want to let Jimmy down after I told him I would go. After all, we were 4th graders and relied on our parents for rides. I decided I would suck it up and go play, I felt a little better, but still not to where I should be. I said “oh well,” and brushed it off. I arrived at the courts ready to play and enjoy the hot summer day, by playing my favorite sport. Little did I know the terror that was to be bestowed upon me.

Jimmy and I started off slow, we rallied back and forth to get warmed up. I felt good and was excited to play a game. Then it happened. I felt a terrible movement of my bowels. The rumbling wouldn’t stop, I knew I wasn’t going to puke, it would be much worse. I felt my stomach give, like a rope snapping under pressure. I bolted for the porto potty. On my way the pain was at an all time high. It finally gave way. The hot and explosive diarrhea erupted from my shorts. The warm, almost unbearably hot waste ran down my leg, steaming in the summer heat.The smell was like a dead animal that had been left in the heat for days. I stopped running and tried to hide behind a tree and finish, but there was more to come. I ran into the porto potty, slammed the door and some of the most violent excretion of waste was done in the small hot box of a porto potty.

I stripped down until I was completely naked and then threw my underwear and shorts into the toilet. My shirt was somehow covered in this radioactive toxic slime as well as my socks and shoes. I realized I had to wait for Jim, because I didn’t have a phone. The longest twenty minutes in my life passed until he finally checked on me. He opened the door to a hot diarrhea oven. He laughed for the longest time, but I thought I was going to die because of the combination of the heat and smell. It was smeared all over the walls and it was the most miserable twenty minutes of my life. Jim gave me his phone and I called my sister to get me clothes and better yet, a ride home. She finally came to the rescue, bringing me clothes as I disposed of everything I was wearing. She was angry, but I was so happy to be saved. The basketball players laughed as I took a walk of shame to the car. I arrived the next day to check the damage, but I came to find out that they had taken it away from the scene I made the day earlier.

This was the most embarrassed I had ever been in my entire life. This is a story almost everyone knows or has heard about. It was very hard to face people with seriousness the next couple days after, but it turned out to be a hilarious story that I will be able to tell my wife and kids some day. No matter how much you think you can eat, always remember the possible consequences that may follow.