In 2006, on a Friday, I decided that I wanted to go to the beach with my family, my wife, and my kids. At the time, we lived in the city of Barquisimeto, in western Venezuela. Going to the beach meant traveling a few hours because the Venezuelan coast was not nearby.
When I arrived home from work that evening, I told my family the news. Everyone was excited because going to the beach was always our favorite destination. Everyone began making preparations to leave early on Saturday morning.
That same Friday night, my neighbor invited me to drink some beers. I was about to decline, but my wife told me to accept because I had always made excuses. I don't usually drink beer as it doesn't sit well in my stomach, making me sit on the throne.
I drank several beers with my neighbor, talking and grilling meat and chicken with some sausages. It went on until midnight. The man wanted to keep drinking with me, but I told him I had to be in optimal condition because I was going to drive in the morning.
When I woke up early in the morning, the first thing I did was take a combination of lemon juice with baking soda to prevent any strange effects on my stomach.
We started our journey, which lasted about two hours. We arrived at the beautiful Patanemo Bay. As we arrived early, we were able to find a good spot where we had shade and could also enjoy the sun. We also chose a safe place for the kids.
Everything was going well, we were enjoying ourselves, and the kids were laughing and jumping the waves until something strange happened.
It was mid-morning, many people had already arrived, and as I watched my kids, I saw a man running from my left side. The man's face was so terrible, full of horror, that I got scared, thinking he was coming towards me.
The man passed me, and I followed him with my gaze, seeing that his destination was some bushes behind the parking lot. My wife had also seen what happened, and we both looked at each other and deduced that the man was defecating.
A few minutes later, the man who was in the bushes passed me again, and at that moment, I felt a very pronounced poo smell that made me want to vomit.
This time, the man was heading towards the sea, and my deduction was that he was going to wash his butt with the water. The bad thing about all this was that the guy didn't go back to where he came from, but went straight to where my children were.
I thought that man was crazy, how could he wash his butt near my kids? He was going to fill my kids with poo.
I stood up anxiously and shouted to the kids to get out of the sea urgently.
My shout and my anguished face were so intense that my kids came out of the sea scared, and almost all the people did too.
Many approached me to ask what had happened, and why the alarm was. If I had seen a shark.
That made me laugh, and I tried to hide it. I just wanted my kids to stay away from the man covered in poo who was washing himself with the waves of the sea.
I couldn't contain myself and told the crowd what had happened, about the man in the waves, the only one who didn't come out when I shouted.
Well, a mob went after the man, and I think he must still be running scared to this day. If they caught him, they were going to lynch him.
The incident ruined the nice moment I was having with my family, and I told my wife that we shouldn't let the kids go back into the sea until the waters were cleaned. But I wasn't at peace.
I suggested we take a walk and look for a restaurant to eat at and get to know the town since I had never been there before. The town was less than ten minutes from the beach.
While in the small town, we didn't find a restaurant, but we found a beautiful inn with a huge pool and a lot of open space for the kids to run and have fun.
It wasn't in our plans to stay, but the inn was so wonderful that I couldn't deny my family's request. One night wouldn't hurt us. We enjoyed the pool until one in the morning.
At dawn, I went out to ask if the inn had a restaurant service, and they said no. I went back to the room and told everyone that we had to go to the city of Puerto Cabello, which was about 20 minutes away, to have breakfast and buy some things to enjoy the beach that day.
We arrived in Puerto Cabello and settled in a small restaurant. Everyone ordered what they wanted, and I wanted to eat a typical breakfast consisting of black beans called 'caraotas,' with fried eggs, meat, arepa, and cheese. I was the only one who ordered that.
Once we finished breakfast, we went shopping and went to the bank to withdraw cash from the ATM.
My wife offered to stand in line at the ATM, and I stayed in the car with the kids.
Here begins the ordeal.
Suddenly, I felt some stabbing in my stomach, which caused me to expel flatulence.
The flatulence came out, but with it came a tsunami, with mud and everything.
Luckily, I didn't stain my pants or boxers, but I felt like I was in a mess.
My wife got the cash from the ATM, and when she got into the car, I told her what had happened, that we needed to find a public bathroom in the city. We didn't know the city, and we didn't know where a public bathroom was.
We drove around the city until I saw a McDonald's. When I saw it, I felt like the light of God had illuminated me, and the angels sang.
But the second wave of the tsunami appeared, and this time it seemed to cause more damage.
While searching for a parking spot to enter McDonald's, the pain became more intense, and I also felt like I was bending the steering wheel of the car with the force I was making to contain the mud that wanted to come out. My sweat was cold, and what I wanted to do was cry. The third wave appeared.
I got out of the car and ran with a tight butt and like a desperate crazy person, I entered McDonald's and looked for the bathroom, avoiding anyone who might approach me.
When I entered, there were three men. They disappeared when they heard the sound of the mud coming out. It sounded like the fireworks of Independence Day.
After finishing evacuating my entire digestive system, I had to do magic. There was no toilet paper (which was rare in a McDonald's).
I decided to clean myself with the unsoiled part of my boxers and then used the sweatshirt to confirm the cleanliness.
That was the day I saw the most poo in my life.
I placed all that dirt in the trash can, and at that moment, one of the employees entered to clean the bathroom.
I left in a flash, without looking anyone in the face, I went shirtless and at full speed towards the family vehicle. I started the car and left for Patanemo Bay.
In my mind was the image of the poor employee cleaning up all the dirt I had left. I still feel guilty.
I never went back to that city again. I thought they would surely put up "wanted" signs with my picture because of what I left at McDonald's.
We arrived at the inn, and I told my wife that I didn't feel quite well and that it would be better if we spent the day in the pool. The next day, we would go to the beach and then go home.
But, being stupid, while in the pool, having fun with my family, I thought of drinking a couple of beers. The ones that loosen up the mud.
The tsunami alert went off, and right inside the pool. Luckily, nothing came out, but I had to get out of the water with a tight butt.
I immediately ran to the bathrooms a few meters away from the pool. But these bathrooms were not finished and had no water. I inaugurated those bathrooms, left them an immense gift, and again had to throw away my belongings. Since there was no paper, I had to clean myself with the towel I had taken preventively and left it there.
I ran back to the room to take a shower.
Later, I returned to the pool and told the family that we had to leave for home because an emergency had arisen. I told my wife to pay for the stay while I collected everything with the kids. That day we broke the speed record when packing our bags. I started the vehicle, and we left.
On the way, my wife asked me what the emergency was, and I replied that the disaster I left in the pool bathroom was so horrible that if they found out, they would sue us, and I could end up in prison.
Along the way, everyone was laughing about my weekend and I crapped myself. That typical breakfast was the apocalypse.
This story is true.
Original content is written exclusively for WEEK 145: Weekend-Engagement writing suggestions
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