April 22, 2025

By: Derek Mitchell

It was supposed to be a simple birthday celebration. My mom, grandma, stepdad, and I decided to make a day out of it: a visit to a quirky back-country thrift shop followed by a stop at a taco truck. Simple, right? I didn’t expect it to turn into a disaster of such epic proportions.

I was feeling pretty good about the tacos—three al pastor ones, loaded with all the right toppings, plus a refreshing Mexican Coke to wash it down. I was savoring the moment, chatting with my family as we wrapped up our little trip. The vibe was good, the sun was out, and life seemed alright… until it happened.

As we were getting ready to leave the taco truck, I felt the familiar pressure in my stomach, a small nudge. I figured it was just a little gas, nothing I couldn’t handle. But then, without warning, I let out a fart that was a little too wet. I froze, my heart dropped, and I muttered to myself, “…oh no.”

I wasn’t sure if it was just a fart or something worse. In a panic, I rushed to the truck, desperately asking for napkins, trying to maintain some level of composure. By now, I was pretty sure that the worst had happened, but I wasn’t about to admit it to anyone—not yet, at least. I waddled to the front of the truck, praying no one was looking, and shoved some paper towels down the back of my pants, trying to assess the damage.

The moment I pulled my hand back from the “inspection,” it was confirmed. I’d sharted. And it was bad. My face turned beet red, and my mind raced through all the possible outcomes of this situation. The first thing I knew for sure was I couldn’t go back to the truck and face my family with this. Not yet.

I started waddling, awkwardly, toward an old church nearby. I couldn’t bear to tell anyone what had just happened. My whole family was right there, blissfully unaware of the catastrophe that was unfolding behind me. It’s not like I could have explained it with dignity, so I just kept walking, trying to get as far from the taco truck as I could.

Eventually, I made it to a public restroom, where I was able to do some much-needed cleanup. To this day, my family has no idea what happened. Honestly, I’d like to keep it that way. But man, that was one birthday celebration I’ll never forget. I definitely learned to be more careful with my taco choices.