“Two thumbs way up!”
-Siskel and that other guy
“Pants-shittingly hilarious”
-Rolling Stone
“…A depth of scope not seen since Gone With the Wind. Someone may explode from the sheer badassness of it all.”
-Time Magazine
I spend an inordinate amount of time making fun of other people. I try not to be too harsh unless it’s deserved, but sometimes I feel a bit bad nonetheless. Therefore, to show that I can take it just as well as dish it, I’ve decided to share with you what is probably my most embarrassing moment thus far in life.
The year was 1997. The Original Star Wars Trilogy was being re-released into the theaters with some new CGI crap that was supposed to enhance it. I was in 8th grade and like many 14 year old boys before me, I thought Star Wars was totally tits. A couple of buddies and I caught a ride down to North DeKalb Mall to see Star Wars: A New Hope on the night it opened (On an ironic note, my car would be stolen from this same mall a year and a half later). We grabbed a bite to eat, most likely a calzone from the pizza joint there because that’s about all this mall ever had to offer. Then we stood in line to get our tickets. To this day I can still remember the excitement of standing in line to go see Star Wars in the theater, like my brother had 20 years before me (albeit at a much younger age). The geeks were out in force for this one. I remember seeing at least 4 Darth Vaders, several Stormtroopers and 1 or 2 Princess Leias to boot. Note to any future Princess Leias: If you weigh enough to be a stormtrooper, you’re automatically disqualified from Princess Leia contention. She was a spritely little thing.
We got our tickets, grabbed some snacks, and went to find some good seats for the show. About the time we sat down, I felt my stomach “drop” about 6 inches. By “drop” I mean something went bad wrong in there. It sorta made that sound that a water cooler makes when an air bubble travels to the top. I thought “No big deal, it’ll pass” and stayed in my seat. It didn’t pass. I sat there and squirmed for a moment and said to myself “There are so many folks in here, I’ll just tear a little ass and nobody will know it’s me.” So I did and I’m pretty sure what came out would gag a maggot. Fortunately, it didn’t reveal itself in solid form, but I knew this was an indicator of things to come, so I quickly made a break for the restroom. After exorcising a demon or two in there, I returned to the theater hopeful that I’d finally be able to enjoy the movie. Wrong.
After missing the first 10 minutes of the movie, I made it back to my seat. All is calm for about the next 15 minutes or so and then my stomach “drops” again. I wasn’t suffering from Irritable Bowel Syndrome, I was suffering from Vengeful Bowel Syndrome. My innards were out to ruin Star Wars for me. What a douchebag move. I cropdusted for a few minutes as discretely as possible, then when I couldn’t possibly hold it any longer, I rushed back to the restroom for round two. Seriously, it was like the beginning of Rocky III where Mickey dies. Damn you, Clubber Lang.
I know what you’re thinking right now. You’re saying to yourself, “No way his body hates him enough to go a third round.” But that’s exactly what happened. My demon innards were kind enough to give me a respite long enough to make it through most of the movie. That old familiar wave of terror washed over me again about the same time the main battle scene was ramping up. I didn’t want to get up again and miss the best part of the movie, so I tried holding out as long as I could. Right towards the end of the battle, I thought perhaps I could just let a little fart slide out to relieve some of the evil in my stomach so I could make it through the rest of the movie. When I did, every last shred of dignity that I had left at the ripe old age of 14 came with it. I shat my pants right there in the middle of damn Star Wars. I looked over at my buddy Jake sitting next to me with absolute horror in my eyes and he knew. “Fuckin’ No way!” He exclaimed and doubled over with laughter. I gotta hand it to that kid, other than that he never said a word to anyone else including my other friends that were there about this incident. Do you even realize the kind of damage that could cause to a kid in middle school?
We should pause here for a moment to bask in the enormity of this event. I straight up pooped my pants right in the middle of the greatest battle scene in the greatest movie of all time. In an absolutely jam packed theater on opening night. I basically flew out of that theater into the bathroom and I’m pretty sure most of the people in the immediate vicinity knew what was going on. To further increase the already pegged out embarrassment meter, some of my neighbors were a row behind us. How would I ever be able to look them in the eye again?
I rushed into the restroom to check out the collateral damage and believe me, it was not slight. Without going into too many undesirable details, let’s just suffice it to say that I attempted to flush my underoos down the toilet and they wouldn’t go. I ended up just leaving the sumbitches in there. I’m sure whoever cleaned that up hated their life for awhile.
I made it back into the theater about the time the credits started rolling. I’d missed the majority of the movie, and I’d shat my pants. What an awesome day. I don’t think I even tried to go see The Empire Strikes Back but Return of the Jedi totally made the unending shame worth it. Well, at least until George Lucas decided that Jar Jar Binks was an acceptable character. Oh, and one final note, my neighbor called my mom that night to make sure I was ok, so I had to explain the whole situation to my mom. F.M.L.
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