September 13, 2016
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if you covered your entire body in rubber cement, I have the answer.
So this morning I’m taking a shower and I’m all “Hey! I forgot I bought this Trader Joe’s body scrub. I think I’ll try it!”
Mistake number one.
Although it smelled really awesome, I soon realized that it had this oddly sticky/gooey texture that would not rinse off of my legs. After a little work the little scrubby bits rinsed off, but the weird, thick, stickiness wouldn’t budge no matter what.
It was awful and uncomfortable, but I didn’t have time to figure out a solution since I was running late (as usual) and needed to get my ass to an appointment with my chiropractor.
Since my chiro. likes us to wear form fitting clothes so he can do deep tissue work without getting all tangled up in fabric, I said to myself “Hey! Today would be the perfect day to wear that new pair of super soft, tight leggings I just bought at Athleta!”
Mistake number two.
And to be honest, I knew it was a mistake about the time I got the pants pulled up to my knee area.
It seemed that the weird residue left behind by my body scrub was acting as a sort of rubber cement/glue kind of adhesive that was making it SUPER hard for the pants to slide up my legs. But since I was running late and it took me like 5 minutes and an exhausting amount of work to get them up THAT far, I knew there was no turning back. I had to dig deep, power on through, and get them pulled all the way up.
It wasn’t easy.
And by the time I was done, I was so sweaty that I needed another shower. But there was no time for that! I had to get to my appointment.
By the time I got there the 3 cups of coffee and 1 juice I had ingested this morning were ready to come out, so I went into the bathroom to pee.
Mistake number three.
Once I started to pull down my pants I quickly remembered that they were basically glued to my body with the leftover scrub. But once again, there was no turning back. There was no way I could physically handle getting my full-bladdered body worked on without peeing all over the table. I was near the point of complete ant total overflow and there was no other choice.
After another insane episode of pulling, twisting, and contortions, I finally got my pants down and peed. And guess what? Well, duh. I couldn’t get them pulled back up.
I tried and tried but they weren’t moving.
I stood there and thought, WTF am I supposed to do now?
I decided that I only had two options: Call the front desk and ask the receptionist to come in and help me pull up my pants, or use paper towels and try and wash the weird stuff off of my legs.
If I’d been wearing cute underwear I may have gone with number one. But I absolutely was not, so I went with number two.
I put about 30 paper towels into the sink and got the wet, then I started manically scrubbing until my skin was all red and raw. After the scrubbing, I took about 30 more towels to dry myself off so that when I finally got my pants up it wouldn’t look like I had peed myself. That would have REALLY sucked as well as totally negated the entire reason for pulling down my pants in the first place. Why worry about the CHANCE of embarrassment from possibly peeing your pants, when you’re gonna end up looking like you totally peed them anyway?
It should come as no shock to you that as I was scrubbing and drying, scrubbing and drying, I fell sideways into the wall. Not only was it very loud, it was the wall that was between the bathroom and my chiropractor’s room. So yeah. That’s real casual, Patti. Things are going SO WELL FOR YOU. Plus, you’ve been in here FOREVER so everyone definitely thinks you’re taking a shit now. And what’s worse? Your cute chiropractor thinking you’re taking a dump at his office or everyone knowing that you’re stuck in there with your pants halfway down? Pretty sure it’s a toss up.
After a lot of falling into walls, sweat, and maybe a few tears, I finally got the freaking pants up. Although I looked like I’d been in some sort of physical altercation, I strolled out of the bathroom like nothing was unusual at all. Like I had not just been in there for an embarrassingly awkward amount of time. Nope. Nothing to see here, people. Move along.
Then my doctor called me into his room.
This might be there part where anyone else in my position would think “Okay. So I look like I’ve been to war. But I’m gonna cut my losses, pretend nothing happened, move on, and try to make it out of here without further embarrassment.”
But not me.
See, I am a total freak who, even when I am completely and totally embarrassed and horrified at something I’ve done, has the uncontrollable need to tell EVERYONE about it. Plus, since I looked like I just left a hand to hand combat situation, I didn’t want everyone thinking I’d had the world war 3 of shits in there. So I immediately launched into the entire story of what I’d really just been through.
I prefaced the story by saying “So you know that episode of Friends where Ross wears the leather pants on the date and he can’t get them pulled back up?”
And my chiropractor says “No.”
He. Says. No.
I mean, who the hell hasn’t seen that episode?
I guess cute people are just way too busy being cute to watch Friends.
So I berate him about that a bit and then continue telling him my story of woe (minus the falling into the wall part). So he’s laughing and he says “Hey, at least you didn’t fall into the wall.” And I’m like “Are you fucking with me? Did you hear me fall into the damn wall?” And he’s all (smiling) “Nope. Didn’t hear a thing.”
I’ve since taken a bath AND a shower and my legs are still sticky!
After posting this story on Facebook one of my readers googled the body scrub and found the following Amazon reviews. VALIDATION, you guys. Although I’m not sure what that 5 star psycho is smoking. Perhaps she has a job as a human lint roller and needs to be at a maximum level of stickiness and adhesiveness at all times. Only explanation I can come up with.
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