Wake Up Call #12

Hey y’all! How is it Monday, again? How does that little bastard creep up on us every week?

monday

I’ve decided to depart slightly from the usual wake up call this week: rather than an assortment of conversations, today’s post is a story someone told me about a hilarious and embarrassing dorm experience. Sadly, no, this story is not my own. I wish it was, because then I could make it a full post. I will admit, I’ve embellished it a little– mostly just descriptions and additional details– but the events of this story are 100% true.

– – –

My dorm freshman year wasn’t, like, a fancy, rich- person dorm where I had my own bathroom; it was the kind where all us poor people lived, and we had a communal bathroom for everyone on the floor. It was gender-specific though; if it had been co-ed, I probably wouldn’t have pooped all year. I would have been way too scared that a boy would come in.

Anyways, I was going pee one afternoon, and there was no toilet paper in the stall. I thought for a second and decided that I didn’t want to drip dry– no one else was in there… Moral of the story, I walked out of the stall with my pants around my ankles, and someone walked in.

Shocked, the girl was like, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” and she sort of turned, like she didn’t know what to do or where to look.

And I was like, “I’m so sorry!” and I shuffled as quickly as I could back into my own stall. The girl immediately turned around and left.

And then I saw her for the next four years. And every time I saw her it was like, you’ve seen my vagina before.

 

I giggled a lot typing this. I hope you did, too. Have a great week!

 

 

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