Wow, talk about a heart attack waiting to happen. On my way to the airport from Los Angeles, I had to make the obligatory journey to the ever famous In-N-Out Burger. Not knowing all the special codes to ordering at In-N-Out I was lucky to have an insider there who knew all the special handshakes, and told me to order "Animal Style". Not knowing what this meant, I worried I was about to be taken into the back room where a banjo would be playing while a red ball is shoved into my mouth with someone in the background saying "Bring out the Gimp". So assuming that only happens in the movies, I boldly ordered Animal Style and crossed my fingers, and subconsciously clinched my butt cheeks.
Needless to say I did not wake up in a back alley with a sore backside and the smell of ether on my breath, so it was a win from that perspective. I am never disappointed when that does not happen, so my trip to the airport was rather uneventful. If you have never experienced Animal Style before from In-N-Out Burger, I highly recommend that you pick one up if you have the means. I just don't recommend that you do it right before you get on a 5 hour flight. Poor planning on my part. So as I am boarding the plane, I feel the notorious stomach gurgle that tells me everything in my digestive track instantly became liquefied and is going to need an emergency evacuation within the next half hour. Problem is, the first leg of my flight home was a two and a half hour flight. I do not know about you, but dropping a dos (Spanish for poop) in an airline toilet is not my idea of a good time, for me or the other passengers.
So fresh out of Depends, I decided to fight the good fight and do the male version of Kegel exercises contracting and relaxing the sphincter muscle so as not to leave an unwrapped present on the airplane seat. Let me just tell you, that a two and a half hour flight is already long, but a two and a half hour flight when you are on the brink of having a blowout so intense that it could spark the FAA to permanently ground the plane is even longer. The good news is that I made it to the Dallas Fort Worth Airport with a little time to spare, and the bad news is I think the bathroom attendant can forget about mom for a while, because he has something new to talk about with his therapist.
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