I realize my posts recently have contained H-rated material (i.e. heavy), which is so not me in real life. To counter this, I’ve decided that a jaunt back through the pages of time is necessary. I know that I recently said this was full disclosure. But I in fact may have been mistaken. This story might in fact make it full-to-overflowing-stop-talking-my-ears-are-bleeding disclosure.
So. The year is 2004-ish. I think it’s around the fall season. I’m in Durango, CO. (One of the most beautiful places on earth and home to some of my best, and worst, memories.) I lived in Durango for six years. Four years of college, one year of staff-interning with our campus ministry, and one year of meeting and marrying my husband.
Hands down I had the most fantastical collegiate experience ever. I had academic scholarships so I didn’t have to work and I had the funnest, craziest, best circle of friends in the entire world. My college experience could be summed up in one word – freaktasticallyfun. (Go with me here.)
My roommate and best friend in college was Nadene. During our many years of roommating we got ourselves into all manner of mischiff. And one time, in a moment of weakness, I told her how I’ve always wanted to try adult diapers. Something about them was so alluring and just beckoned for my usage. But I’d forgotten that I’d told her that.
So one night we’re hanging out at a friend’s house with a thousand of our other friends (we sound so cool and popular), checking out the cute guys, seeing if they’re checking us out, when Nadene whispered that she had a secret idea. I’m always down for secret ideas so we jumped in her car and she drove us to Wal-mart.
We head into Wal-mart, she tells me her plan, I become ecstatic at the reality of living my livelong dream, otherwise referred to as Using Adult Diapers, we make our purchase, and we head back to her car. So, in a normal situation, you buy your Adult Diapers and then head to the privacy of your own home to try them. But we’re not normal. Obviously. We prefer to kick Normal in the cajones. So we put our Adult Diapers on in her car with untinted windows in the Wal-mart parking lot, and then through the most hysterical laughter I have ever experienced in my life…utilize them, screaming for everyone within a 25-mile vicinity to hear, “I’m peeing, I’m peeing!”
And then, because we’re not normal (see: above), we go to Denny’s. To freaking Denny’s. In our used Adult Diapers. (Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m even telling this story.) I remember exactly what I was wearing because the shirt I was wearing wasn’t long enough to meet the top of my jeans, which means I had white freaking adult diaper poking out the top of my jeans like a Precious Moments baby bottom butt ruffle. As we crinkle-swished our way to our seats, only Divine Grace kept us semi-intact from hysterical fits of laughter and guilty confessions to the unsuspecting Denny’s crowd.
And then (because you know this story’s not done), we decided we should head home, as Adult Diapers don’t properly contain more than two uses (don’t ask me how I know). But on the way we pulled alongside our neighbors who were roommates who we had soul-deep crushes on (who we later went on to date), and they followed us home. Which means that we had to get out of the car, walk backwards (literally), and make the quickest escape away from them without squelching any potential future shots for dateability.
And that was the only embarrassing part of the night. Peeing in Wal-mart parking lot? Nope. Walking through Denny’s in used Adult Diapers? Not even close.
Sometimes I still fear that Normal and I do not reside on the same planetary rotation (I don’t even know what that means, but if it means that Normal and I don’t know each other’s names, then that’s what I mean).
There you have it. Full (ish) disclosure.
Some pictures of Nadene and I through the years.
|At my wedding.|
|At her wedding.|
|In Peru a second time visiting our other best friend, Annie.|
|Annie! Still friends to this day.|