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Quora: What would you do if you pooped your pants at work?
Someone posed this question on Quora, and a user named Jezebel Jay shared her wisdom.
https://www.quora.com/What-would-you...-pants-at-work (second answer on page)
Her profile picture shows a mature yet attractive woman.
https://www.quora.com/What-would-you...-pants-at-work (second answer on page)
Not strictly at work - but on the way to a Customer meeting.
Picture the scene. I had a really early customer meeting, and I wasn’t feeling too great in the morning, when I left home. Ho hum, make up usually covers the grey skin…except, when I got off the train and was heading for the Tube it became apparent that my skin tone wasn’t going to be my major issue.
Walking across Paddington station, I almost doubled up from gut pain, which was followed by a no-stopping-this-shit cavalcade into my underwear, and I was mortified.
Certain that everyone within a 50 mile radius could smell me, I duck-walked over to the public toilets (and no they are not very nice at Paddington.)
Tights off, knickers off, straight in the nearest sani-bin. Tidy up as much as possible with loo roll, and head off to the ticket office for a ticket to the showers at the station.
Sluice the requisite bits, skirt back on, no tights in January, and going commando for the rest of the day.
I smelled as though I’d just got out of a shower, and I made it for my meeting.
Don’t try going out without tights in London in January though, unless it’s essential - it was fucking freezing.
Picture the scene. I had a really early customer meeting, and I wasn’t feeling too great in the morning, when I left home. Ho hum, make up usually covers the grey skin…except, when I got off the train and was heading for the Tube it became apparent that my skin tone wasn’t going to be my major issue.
Walking across Paddington station, I almost doubled up from gut pain, which was followed by a no-stopping-this-shit cavalcade into my underwear, and I was mortified.
Certain that everyone within a 50 mile radius could smell me, I duck-walked over to the public toilets (and no they are not very nice at Paddington.)
Tights off, knickers off, straight in the nearest sani-bin. Tidy up as much as possible with loo roll, and head off to the ticket office for a ticket to the showers at the station.
Sluice the requisite bits, skirt back on, no tights in January, and going commando for the rest of the day.
I smelled as though I’d just got out of a shower, and I made it for my meeting.
Don’t try going out without tights in London in January though, unless it’s essential - it was fucking freezing.
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