You may not believe this story, but it’s true. I was seeing this guy, who lived in a different city. He came to visit for the weekend. People talk about how hard long-distance relationships are…. and they are…. but they’re also wonderful. Every time you visit each other, you are both so excited. You excuse all the shitty things about each other because you don’t want to waste your precious time together. When you live in the same area, you can’t excuse their flaws.
Everyone tries harder in bed in a long-distance relationship. When the man gets comfortable, ladies, say goodbye to any hope of him trying to take care of you sexually. When a girl gets comfortable, guys, she’s probably going to stop shaving regularly and get too tired.
Anyways, he came to visit me. We were enjoying our time together. We were going out to eat for every meal, so we were kind of eating like shit and eating a lot. The day he had to leave, we were cuddling and being adorable. When he smelled something and looked to the side of the bed to see what it was….
It was a tiny little hamster-sized poo. Next to us. On my bed.
We both swear it wasn’t us.
My defense – I am poop shy. Him visiting backed me up for days. No way could I go to the bathroom in the same building as him. So if I was going to poop, it would be massive. How could I poop just a tiny bit? Also, he who smelt it dealt it.
His defense. – “What the fuck??? Are you serious? It wasn’t me”
He left and sent me a Venmo to get a coffee and wash my sheets (incriminating.. was he feeling guilty?)
The craziest part of this story is our relationship survived this incident. No one pooped the bed again. We don’t even talk about it. Maybe we have a trauma bond.
Maybe I have a ghost? I don’t have any pets who could’ve pooped in my bed. Has this happened to anyone? I know what you’re thinking, but no, I’ve never done anal…. I’m way too much of a tight ass.