#2

Years ago I was working for a small city PD that had recently annexed a stretch of highway that was outside of the city and at least ten minutes from the nearest convenience store. It was the midnight shift and I had just finished eating lunch at the local Denny's, which I think back and realize was mistake #1. I remember exactly what I had ordered: Moons over my Hammy with a side of greasy hash browns, mistakes #2 and #3. Well, somewhere in the back of my head I knew it was a bad idea, but I had just received my Laser certification and I was eager to go hit the above mentioned stretch of highway to put my laser and pen to use. I drove up and down the highway and found the perfect spot to set up in the median to check both East and West bound traffic. I park the patrol car, pull out the laser, and all of a sudden it hit me. I have to take a S#%t. I made a quick calculation and realized the closest bathroom is the PD which was at least 12 miles away. I put the car in gear and next thing I know I'm running code to try to make it to the PD. I didn't get 3 miles when I realized I wasn't gonna make it so I made a quick decision to pull into a new housing subdivision that was in the early stages of construction. I figured there had to be a port-o-potty somewhere. I drove around for a quick minute but couldn't find a port-o-potty. I stopped the car at a cul-de-sac, grabbed a stack of napkins that the previously assigned officer kept in the middle console, jumped out, and dropped trow just in time. At that moment I realized why the previously assigned officer kept that stack of napkins in the car, unfortunately I ran out of napkins so, needless to say, I went the remainder of the shift with only one sock. Being one that learns from my past, I now keep a roll of TP in my patrol bag.

I bet you had some nasty skidmarks in your underwear. Not to mention a sh*t load (no pun intended) of dingleberries.

Hahahaha that was a funny story. Thanks for sharing.

I would poop my pants before I ever used a port-o-potty.

You seem to have a way of writing and intentionally not spelling words correctly. Just remember a turd is turd no matter where you put it. ops:

I hurd youre mom still wipes youre a.ss

What the heck is a barthroom?

It's something you 33k'ers have to pee and crap in.

When I first got married, my wife questioned my undershirt with only one sleeve. I told her that I used the sleeve for TP. She advised me to throw the shirt away and couldn't understand when I explained that I could still get three more good uses from it.

I work a rural stretch of the Turnpike and I ususlly bring a large size bucket with me in my car. If nature calls and I'm far from a restroom/stop I go a little off roading and find a nice spot to sit on the bucket. Once I'm done I empty it out and throw some bleech in it and put the bucket back in my car. I use palm tree leaves to wipe.

Hey, it works.

One time I had no choice but to pop my trunk and see what I could use to sit on. I had one egg cart type basket and a bin. I put the two side by side with but with enough space in the middle for the craps landing zone. I will never forget sitting there taking an epic dump off the side of the road. It was honestly awesome. I was far enough off the road and my car was on the perfect angle that I actually took my time. I will never forget how enjoyable it was to be able to take a dump and watch cars fly by hitting their breaks thinking I was in mine. Little did they know I was taking a dump on the other side. Hey, much better view then just staring at the bathroom wall. Be safe.

Before I got hired with the Patrol I worked as a part-time mail carrier. One day I was filling in for another carrier working a route with an apartment complex mail room followed by a walking route at the next apartment complex. The mail room was it's own building set apart from everything else, so it did not have air conditioning. Needless to say it was the hottest hour and half delivery during the summer months.

It was a sweltering summer day when I was in the middle of delivering the mail room when I had the sudden urge to use the bathroom. I tried holding it as long as I could, but it was no use. I left everything and locked the mail room up. I drove the postal truck around the apartment complex looking for the management office so I could use the bathroom. When I finally found the management officer I was horrified to read a poorly hand-written sign hanging in the window stating, "Showing property, be back soon".

There was no way I could wait to see how soon they would be back, so I looked over to the pool area and saw that there were bathrooms inside the gated area. I rushed over to the gate only to find that not only did it have a child-lock on it, but it had a lock to keep non-residents out. I looked about frantically to see if there was a resident that could let me in, but there was nobody. I was about as close to shitting my pants as possible at this point. I decided to hop the gate, and thank god the bathroom doors didn't have a lock on them.

I took the most massive crap of my life that day. While sitting there taking a crap I couldn't help but notice how severely my ass was sweating as it had soaked through the seat of my shorts. I was wearing a pair of blue shorts made out of that thin khaki material that made wet spots so much easier to see. I remembered that my next part of the route was a walking part and I couldn't help but think of people staring and seeing my wet rear end. I finished shitting, but when I went to flush the toilet it unsurprisingly became clogged. I decided I'd let the water go down and try flushing again, so while I waited I took my shorts off and held them up to the hand dryer, which worked after a while. After drying my shorts, I tried flushing a couple more times, but it started to overflow, which was my cue to disappear and finish my route. Needless to say, I ran about an hour late on delivery that day, which is an eternity to any postal supervisor.

About a week later I was called into the Post Masters office. The Shop Steward (union rep) was sitting there waiting. The Post Master explained to me that a resident at the apartment complex had called to complain. The resident claimed that they had seen me swimming in the apartment pool during my route and then the Post Master handed me my time card showing I was an hour late. After an embarrassing explanation the Post Master called the resident back who admitted to only seeing me jump the gate to the pool. After a few laughs the Post Master explained that he was about to let me go for the offense, but thankfully there was a "good" explanation.