Letters Never Sent- Vol 13

To the woman who pooped on my car seat

February 2007

I don’t want to use your name, because, well, if you know who you are and you are reading this, then it will make sense, if not, it’s best we keep names out of this. But after all we met here on Craigslist, so I am hoping that you find this.

I know that it could have been quite possibly be the most humiliating first date that you have ever been on, but I am willing to look past that. After all I have been on my share of dates that went south over the years, (usually it’s something I did, if I do see you again remind me to tell you the crisper story), but still, I get it, these things happen.

Admittedly, sharing that basket of hot wings and pepper poppers while drinking the jalapeno beer was not the best choice of food when you are just meeting someone for the first time. But I really felt like there was some heat between us, and I am not just talking about the sauce. And for the record, I gotta say, if someone told me that the view from the Chili’s off the turnpike, overlooking the Budget Inn was romantic, I would’ve never believed them, but you were right, that sunset over the tollbooth was pretty spectacular, and watching the hobos fight behind the dumpster of the motel was like having dinner and a show.

You have a wicked sense of humor and a dark streak, (no pun intended) and, well, I liked you.. when I offered to give you a ride home and you seemed happy to oblige, I thought things were looking up.

And that brings us to the twist ending of the evening…

Look, at some point in life, everyone has gambled on a fart and lost. In your case, it just happened to be on a first date in the passenger seat of my car.

I myself have gambled on a fart and lost, on multiple occasions. I remember the first time I did, it was a long time ago, but things like that stick with you, like losing your first tooth, or the first time you kiss a girl, but less warm and fuzzy, more wet and swishy. It happened when I was about six or seven and sitting on my Uncle Lou’s lap. Let me begin again by saying I am lactose intolerant, but at the time we didn’t know what that meant yet and everyone just ate a lot of cheese. And I loved cheese, (still do actually, I mean who doesn’t, I’m not a communist). and I remember we had just had double grilled cheese sammiches for lunch, and I then had a big bowl of ice cream. Well, you can guess what happened. To this day, my uncle brings it up at every family reunion, that was almost 30 years ago, you would think he would have forgotten, but he really liked those chinos. But I digress.


If I was a betting man, I would say that probably 98% of the time when you bet on a fart you win, but there’s always that 2% chance, (not a milk joke), that's why they call it "gambling". All that to say that I'm the last person to judge, the timing, on the other hand, could have been better...like when you're not sitting on a heated leather seat.


Truth be told, I was impressed by your boldness. We both heard it, and you didn’t even try to blame me or pretend it didn’t happen, you let out a little girl laugh and then just casually rolled down the window, even though it was freezing out.

What I am trying to say is, first dates are always a crapshoot. So if you’re still out there and want to try again, I would be more than happy to take you someplace less taxing on the digestive tract, maybe like the early bird special at the senior center, Tuesday nights are also bingo night!

Smell you later..

H

P.S. - If you shat yourself on purpose to end the evening early. . . ...touché.

(**adapted from an actual CL post)