Okay blogging friends. If you tuned in last week, you probably have a very skeptical view of my buddy Stephen. Normally with friends like Steve, I would just allow you to keep on believing that he is the man that will never trust a fart again.
But now I’m feeling guilty because some of the information was fabricated. tainted. false.
So it’s time for me to come clean. (enjoy the sweet sounds of Eisley while reading.) I’m reposting the story here. Follow my commentary (of my own story) to find out what actually happened on that Tuesday afternoon.
One time last year, I was feeling a little loopy. I had stayed up all night one Monday attempting to get a project done in the 24 hour lab, one of the feature’s in the library on campus. I had classes that day, so I was awake all day Monday, then all night, then all day Tuesday. It was now hour 34 of being awake when the incident happened.
The sun was setting. It was a beautiful day in April. I drove my car over a hill to see some gentlemen preparing for a fish fry. Among the men in this group, I noticed my friend Stephen Rowell in the distance.
In order to fully understand the story, you have to understand all that this Stephen Rowell.
Stephen answers to no one. He is his own person. He has looked like he is 35 since his Freshman year and has been mistaken for a parent or professor (as pictured above) on numerous occasions. He was “secretly” in love with me for a good year and I finally had to shoot him straight for him to get the idea. He now is dating an amazing woman of God, and I couldn’t be happier for him!
Okay he’s never been in love with me. It’s an on-going joke that for some reason to me never gets old. Sometimes when he asks me a question, like “why can I not do __ the right way?!” My automatic response in the past has been “I don’t know Steve. Maybe it’s because you’re in love with me?” Gets him (ehhh …me) every time.
Stephen isn’t great with schedules. He’s the guy that shows up 10 minutes late to classes regularly but walks in with a Venti Vanilla latte in hand and iPad in arm, greeting anyone and everyone. I wouldn’t call him disruptive, because the professors are usually delighted when he comes in. He’s the guy everyone wants to be around because there’s never any guessing what’s on his mind.
I wouldn’t call it accurate to say “usually” before “delighted.” More accurate would be to say, “Sometimes, the professors are delighted that he actually decided to show up to class.”
That being said, on this Tuesday late afternoon/evening, I may have had sour feelings toward Mr. Rowell. It may have been because I stayed awake for a meeting with him that he missed. It may have been because he went fishing for this fish fry. He may have had another valid reason for not showing up to said meeting, but none of them mattered. What mattered was how tired I was, and how carefree he was, setting up the grill for the big event of the week.
As my car descended the hill, I stopped when I was level with the crew. I hit my brakes, rolled down my window, and shouted, “STEPHEN!!“
Stephen looked at me like a deer in the headlights. He slowly meandered over to my window, leaned down, and I couldn’t shake the look on his face. He looked troubled, concerned and in doubt. I asked how he was doing, and he began talking aimlessly. Very out of character for him. He was looking down into my car and making little to no eye contact. Whatever was troubling him was far bigger than this missed meeting that was bothering me.
The above paragraphs contain about 95% truth if the subject matters are reversed. The reality of the situation is that as I shouted “STEPHEN!!” I looked at him like a deer in the headlights. I could not make eye contact. I began talking aimlessly. Nothing mattered in this moment because of a personal matter. Read on:
A couple days later, I received a few text messages from Stephen. In this series, he said something to the extent of “Allegra, I think we need to clear the air. I’m sorry I embarrassed you when I crapped my pants in front of you the other day. I hope you know I wasn’t feeling well and it doesn’t happen often. I hope you don’t view me differently because this has never happened before.”
-> A couple days later, I sent a few text messages to Stephen. In the series, I said something to the extent of “Stephen, I think we need to clear the air. I’m sorry that in the moment your head was in my car the other day, I crapped my pants. I hope you know that I don’t just do this on the reg. I wasn’t feeling well. I hope you don’t view me differently because this has never happened before.”
JUDGE ME if it’s what the Lord is calling you to do, blog world! I did it! I crapped my pants in front of a dude. In the United States. Yards from my dorm room. Had I ever done this in Mexico while I was camping and the closest outhouse was a quarter mile from my tent? No. What about on a job site with no running water or usable facility? No. Okay well what about after a hot pepper challenge with my teammate Fernando? NO! It happened on Campus in the luxury of all these amenities!
In my defense, there were a lot of things working against me. I am a vegetarian and there is a lot of fiber in my diet. I hadn’t slept and had a lot of coffee and caffeine: natural laxatives. I had my first ever surgery and it was on my abdomen, so food wasn’t processing correctly…
And as I shouted, “STEPHEN!!” it was just too much pressure on my abdomen.
Why did I tell him? Because I thought for sure he knew! And I interpreted his silence as assumption. Assumption that this is a regular thing in my life. At least by telling him myself, I could control the message that was sent. (Public Relations class came in handy.) I could let him know this was a one-time thing. And you know why I’m feeling so guilty? Because as students have asked him about this situation, he has gone along with it to protect my pride. EVEN AFTER I THROUGH HIM UNDER THE BUS.
And now the entire world knows about my bowel issues. If you would like to join with me and prove that this happens to everyone at some point or another, post your story below! We can laugh about it together and rise against the judgers who claim this has never happened to them! We can start judging them for lying!
Hopefully I didn’t lose any of my followers for this… Oh well. That’s me.
Over and Out!