A few years ago my buddy and I took a trip to Charlotte, NC for a weekend. I went out the night before for happy hour which lasted until 2am. That made getting up at 6am tough, but I did it. It was about a 5-hour drive from where I was living at the time. I was starting to crave the hangover foods we all love (anything with grease) so I made my buddy stop at Bojangles. Biscuits and sausage gravy never tasted so good. About an hour later we were in the boondocks of North Carolina and my stomach was rumbling a little. I figured I'd let a little squeaker out and that would ease the pressure on my intestinal walls. I lifted my left cheek to aim it at my travel partner and then all of a sudden, about 3 ounces of liquid shot out of my ass before I could use my body's "emergency shutoff". I yelled "SHIT" and lifted my ass about 3 inches off the seat so I wouldn't soil his cloth interior. My buddy asked what was wrong and I just told him to get off the next exit coming up. He got off and there were actually houses all over the place, so he drove around for a few more minutes until we saw a convenience store.
At this point I was laughing hysterically and waddled into the front of the store. Some Indian guy was behind the counter and I asked if he had a bathroom. "No, no bathroom for public". I said "I really need one bad", trying not to tell him what happened while my friend was practically rolling on the floor in one of the aisles. The guy just kept saying no, so I said "look, I had an accident". "What you mean accident" he asked. I was still clinching my cheeks like there was no tomorrow because I was about to drop another biscuit out of my ass, so finally I said "look buddy, I shit my pants and there's more where that came from, so let me in your bathroom". He pointed to a little door in the corner and I shuffled over there.
I must have been in that bathroom for 20 minutes, because the Indian guy knocked and asked if I was still in there. My stomach was angry at me that day. I went through an entire roll of toilet paper and clogged the guy's toilet. No plunger? Not my problem. I kicked off my shorts and boxers and put some new ones on that I grabbed out of the trunk on my way in. When I finally made it out of that bathroom I wanted to run for the car and hop in like Bo Duke. The store owner stopped me and asked "is anything in there?" I was still laughing but managed to get out a "nope" and hit the door. We took off down the road and to this day still talk about what that guy's face must have looked like when he went into the bathroom and saw a dirty pair of boxers and an overflowing toilet.
About a mile down the road my buddy had the best line that I'll always remember: "It's OK Jake, big boys do it too".