A couple times over the course of adulthood. All were when I was sick and trusted a fart.

I was sixteen so in a bunch of states that counts as an adult for some situations. We were on a band trip to Disney World to march in the Main Street parade, and we stayed at a very cheap motel that had a very scummy pool. Being an idiot sixteen year old I jumped in.

First mistake.

That night I woke up vomiting, but because my band needed me and I didn’t want to miss a free trip to Disney World I toughed it out. I was queasy but okay by the time we got there, and was okay until everybody had to meet up by the Pirates of the Caribbean ride to go “backstage” to get ready.

I was sitting on the wall there, next to my girlfriend, surrounded by classmates, when I trusted a fart.

Second mistake.

I told the band director and waited until everyone went backstage, and then proceeded to DESTROY a staff toilet while listening to two guys put their makeup on and bitch about the other cast members. Then I went back to the motel for a shower.

I ended up marrying that girl, who is now my ex, and who makes my life miserable every time she can.

Third mistake.

Twice, both related to my Crohn’s Disease.

The first was in preparation for my first colonoscopy, where I was told that I was only allowed clear broth, clear soda, coffee, and water for 24hr before taking the colon prep solution. I didn’t think the diet would give a mile-long headstart before the prep solution, so I enjoyed copius amounts of clear broth and coffee, which ran through me like a river, resulting in the mishap. The bathroom was only 10ft away from me, but it was still too far given the rapid pressure buildup.

The second was during an insurance conflict about my Crohn’s Medication, resulting in a flareup and multiple weeks of gut agony and loose stool. It got to the point where no flatulence was trustworthy, and I took a gamble because I was so tired of getting up to run to the restroom every time I felt something bubbling (10+ restroom visits a day, each at the slightest sign of stomach rumbling will do that to a motherfucker).

It is always humiliating, even when I am home alone, and I am hyper concious about the possibility, even when in remission. It fucking bites.

Bitch I’ll do it now

I would call it 1.5 times. In the 90s, I worked for a company that gave out $50 gift cards to a local grocery store for the holidays. I was young and still lived with my parents, so I used it to buy $50 worth of beer and fish (orange roughy). Went over to my friend’s house and we drank copious amounts of beer and consumed way too much beer battered roughy. Was standing outside the next morning having a smoke and trusted a fart. That was the last time I trusted a fart with a hangover.

Next time was about 25 years later, stomach gurgling during the last 20 minutes of a 2 hour commute, and well past the last public restroom. Tried to make it home, farting as I could to release whatever pressure I could. About 5 minutes from home, last fart released about 2 tablespoons of poop into my underpants. I phoned my wife to have the door open and make sure she wasn’t in the nearest bathroom. lol.

Last time was about two years ago where I was quite sick and had to prioritize throwing up over pooping. The pressure from throwing up did the rest.

Based on my own research, which should not be considered scientific by any means:

Pants shitting frequency directly correlates to one’s personal level of alcoholism.

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I had diarrhea on the day of a performance. I had it earlier but it was in such a minor severity that I didn’t think it would be an issue, especially if I didn’t eat anything for a while. At one point during a quiet part of the performance, one of the vendors was really lowkey pressuring people to buy food, so I gave in and bought chicken bites, with the diarrhea not coming to mind at all. In hindsight, I don’t give any compliments to whoever made/stored made them.

Thirty minutes later, when the performance had heated up, I sensed it and had a split second to comprehend what was about to happen next… puh-vloooooomp! At first I was like “oh shit” (no pun intended) and was able to position myself in a way that (to my knowledge) hid my mess, which combined with the heat and the fact I was wearing a skirt made it uncomfortable, but then, after another half an hour, I had forgotten about it and just left it, heading to the bathroom in that time.

I came back to see people distancing themselves because of how ugly it was and how much it smelled since it didn’t all travel with me, combined with the fact that the place had been hit with a lot of supposed hooliganism, which triggered a streak of rule strictness. I couldn’t get the words “well it wasn’t MY shit” completely out (and a part of me felt like correcting my dishonesty there had I said it) when I was told to not return in the future. I spent the night crying because of what I had done.

I’ve ulcerative colitis so in the last week probably 5-6 as I’ve had a flare up and was in hospital and couldn’t get to the toilet in time. Plus I had frequent diarrhea.

“Farted” in a Hotel bed, while arriving with a stomach flu. Was a business trip I couldn’t get out of.

Was quite embarrassing to try to wash everything in the shower, and left them a note and a tip.
Luckily it seems that deal worked out, as I still had to stay for 2-3 weeks and nobody mentioned anything.
But wasn’t fun… Especially while still having a fever and the bowels doing whatever…

Twice that I recall, both while at least mildly ill. Once, in law school, I was late to class and had an assigned seat in the middle of a row, so I was not keen to draw further attention to myself, but I had a rumbly tummy and the bowel wants what it wants. Eventually, despite what felt to me like truly heroic efforts, I did in fact excuse myself, only to find that floor’s bathroom was closed. going down a flight of stairs does things to your regular clenching pressure, and by the time I made it to the toilet, “slug of poo” had made its way into my boxers. Damage to the undies was surprisingly mild, but I went ahead and called it a day for the rest of my classes, as I had skipped many times for far less legitimate reasons.

The other time I was just home with the shits and didn’t quite make it once. Afterwards I moved my “I’m sick” nest a lot closer to the bathroom for the rest of the day.

Three times.

Twice from trusting farts. Pretty standard story.

Once because I was sick with food poisoning but had to make a 300 mile drive that day. Couldn’t hold the diarrhea in while vomiting on the side of the road. Luckily I had a change of clothes and got home before the second round of duplex emesis hit.

Never.

No times. I’ve always managed to get to a toilet in time, even if it was only moments to spare.