One night stands are supposed to be hot, passionate and sexy.
However, a lot of the time, hooking up with a complete stranger can be quite awkward and that romanticized idea of how you’re expecting your one night stand to go, ends up going the complete opposite direction.
But whatever your best/worst one night stand story is, if it didn’t end with you pooping all over yourself and yelling out just that, then you haven’t felt embarrassment like this British woman who shared her story with Cosmopolitan UK:
It all began in May 2013…
During our last night [on island off Bali] I got together with [her friend’s boyfriend] Ryan’s right-hand man, Lewis. We took things back to the bungalow and proceeded to revel in some skin-on-skin action before dozing off…
…A few hours later I awoke with an urgent need to use the facilities. To put it delicately, as much as I’d grown to love Indonesian cuisine, it did not love me back. Bowels a’twitchin’, I quickly assessed my options: use the open-plan bungalow bathroom within earshot of nine guys or get the hell outside and find an alternative.
She managed to safely get to a ladies room, do the deed and went back to bed, thinking that was the end of it. Sorry sweetheart, not the case, at all!
Two hours later my dodgy dinner woke me up again. Without delay I launched myself out of bed towards my trusty late-night bar, but when I got there was faced with a CLOSED sign. Oh god, no! Time was running out! I said farewell to dignity, bolted to the beach and, with Balinese sands between my toes and the ripple of waves in my ears, ripped down my PJ bots and – sorry Mother Nature – offloaded. Oh, the blessed, glorious relief!
My reprieve was short-lived, however, as I suddenly found myself illuminated by a uniform-wearing official’s industrial torch. The Poo Police?
‘Please! Leave me!’ I cried.
Apparently this instruction didn’t translate and the torch-bearer continued to advance until the scene was unmistakable: 22-Year Old Woman Sh*ts Herself on Beach. Fantastic. At least this visage of horror scared the official away and I found myself hidden in the comforting shroud of darkness once more.
It was at this point I realised my PJ shorts had been somewhat tarnished during the event. Back at the bungalows, I suspected an ‘I sh*t myself’ anecdote wouldn’t make for great pillow talk with Lewis, so I went to wake Lauren. I needed her to give me some clean pyjamas and I needed to be telling her this story rather than living it. Of course, she was sharing a bungalow with Ryan. I stood for a while outside their love-nest dithering over whether to disturb them, peering through the window like some sort of soiled-shorts-wearing pervert. Eventually, desperation for cleanliness got the better of me and I burst through the door bellowing, ‘I slept with Lewis and there’s poo on my pyjamas!’
So i guess the moral of the story would be to watch what you eat before getting freaky with a stranger and pay attention to where you poop!