Independence Day Party

I had, ahem, an awful episode of diarrhea yesterday while I was at my apartment. Nikki would have been proud. However, it seemed like a one and done deal, so afterward I went down the hall to my buddy Lego's place.  We're hanging out, and he says some of the international students are having a BBQ in the pool courtyard of another apartment complex, and he wants to know if I want to go.  When we get there, we discover it is 25 or 30 Indian and Pakistani students celebrating because both their Independence Days are that weekend.  Lego and I are the only 2 white people there. Naturally, they have a ton of super spicy Indian and Pakistani food.  I LOVE ethnic food, but obviously this is not what my stomach really needs at the moment.

Of course, the international students are SUPER hospitable and friendly, and immediately upon our arrival encourage us to try every different type of food they had.  Obviously I couldn't say no given the circumstances, so I get a plate and hope for the best.  One reluctant bite into some tasty chicken/curry dish, I experience a noiseless, but very wet fart.  A look of complete and utter terror crosses my face, as the realization dawns on me that I may well have just crapped my pants in public.

I get somebody to show me where the nearest bathroom is, and praise Allah that it is a common area bathroom and not in somebody's apartment.  Thankfully, I also haven't crapped my pants.  Then I do homage to Shiva the Destroyer and have a 2nd episode of diarrhea.

Now, I'm faced with an awkward dilemma.  Do I tell Lego we need to leave?  If I do that, it is definitely going to look like we showed up, saw it was all Indians and Pakistanis, and decided to leave because we think we're too good to hang out with them or something.  On the other hand, I don't exactly want to broadcast to the entire room that I have wicked diarrhea and that somebody needs to call a plumber and a hazmat team to fix the damage I just did to their common area's bathroom.

So, I end up pushing spicy food around my plate for another 30 minutes and hoping trouble doesn't come in threes.  Eventually, I feel as if it wouldn't be awkward for us to leave, so we head back to the safety of my apartment complex.

Disaster is narrowly averted.  This time.