In 2011, I was in a taxi in New Delhi, India, about 4 pm, traveling from Kailash Colony to Nizamuddin neighborhood, when a funny thing happened: the massive amounts of Pani Puri I had eaten earlier at a street stalls suddenly ripped thru my system like Drano through a clogged sink, causing me to cry out like this: "Oh holy shit! Holy shit! Pull over now! Pull over now!". The taxi driver was getting 800 rupees per day and had to do everything I said, so there in Nizamuddin neighborhood teeming with rickshaws, pedestrians, cars, cows, and right at the start of rush hour, the taxi stopped near a busy bakery and tea stall. "Do you think there is a bathroom anywhere around here!!!?" I screamed out in intestinal pain, beads of sweat now beginning to drip down my temples in the already hot afternoon. "No sir. Bathroom ni hai. But ask there at bakery maybe."
Like Ussein Bolt I bolted to the bakery and ran in looking for any person to ask about using the bathroom. No sir, bathroom not for customers, but good news: there is a bathroom around the corner and it is outside next to a barber shop/massage place.
I sprinted with the real fear I would not make it in time.
It was about 75 meters from the bakery I realized I was fucked. No barber shop or massage place and everything written in Hindi. I saw an old man and asked him if there was a bathroom nearby. He said no sorry no bathroom but he pointed behind a building about three shop fronts away. He said okay and he pointed to the building. I ran to the building without even asking what he was talking about. I go into what looks like a small Warehouse and there is a guy sitting at a security booth in the dimly lit lobby. I asked him if there's a bathroom and he pointed towards the far wall where there was a doorway. I could see sunlight coming through the door about 60 ft away. I assume he meant the bathroom was that way.
I sprinted past him and out the door into a back alley. I looked left and right but there were only garbage dumpsters and no people and no doorways or any bathrooms that I could see on the outside of this building.
That was when I said to hell with it. That was when I said that's it. That's when I said this is the end of the line. This is the end of the road. This was the last stand. At that moment in Time I said fuck it.
I looked both ways and did not see any people walking in this back alley. Across on the other side of the alley it was just bushes and tall Grass and some garbage dumpsters and a guardrail with some cars parked along it.
Out of sheer pain and sheer desperation and sheer intestinal agony, I ran to the left wildly and blindly about 20 ft up the alley and when I got past one of the dumpsters, I ripped my pants down to my ankles and shit hard against the wall of a building for like 5 minutes straight.
No toilet paper or anything like that but I was smart enough to bring a one-pint plastic bottle of water with me. That's the way they do it in India.
Let's talk about times that you "accidentally" had to shit in public.