Transcript
A (0:00)
Hey folks, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison and every Thursday we release these special episodes where we look back at content from our earlier years. Keep in mind that some announcements in older episodes might be outdated as well as some of what's said in the stories. We always say that the name of the series itself is a bit of a content warning. This week, an episode that premiered in September of 20. It's an episode we call How Embarrassing.
B (1:04)
Risk.
A (1:14)
Hello kids, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison and this is Terry Snyder and the all stars behind me now calling today's episode How Embarrassing Four Tales of humiliation Couple wherein something profound was learned and a couple that are just shit shows. In just a bit, we're gonna hear a story from yours truly, a story I told at the RISK Live show in New York City. But before that, we're gonna hear something from someone I met in one of our workshops. If you wanna work on your own storytelling, you can always find us@thestorystudio.org we did a workshop down in Norfolk, Virginia, and Donna Steele shared this story with us there. Let's get to it. Right now we call it Mother's Little Helper.
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So growing up, my mom wanted everyone to think she was really put together. She dressed in the latest fashion, she always made sure our house was really clean, but she was always a little bit off. She would take us to places and dress us up in like top dollar fashion bows ties. My brother always had to wear a tie no matter where he went. Or khakis and polos. That was another really big thing for her. She would have parties over at our house at least once every couple weeks just to kind of get the neighbors in to see, oh, this is the new couch I bought, or oh, this is the new TV we got. Look at all our fancy things. But my brother and I saw a different side to my mother. For example, she could tell the difference between Coca Cola from one McDonald's location, like on Parham Road to the other McDonald's location, which was all the way on Gaskins. If it wasn't from McDonald's, she would know if you got it from Wendy's or Burger King, she would flip out, flip out. And if you wouldn't go get her a Coke. Like if she was in the middle of something, she would whine, donna Ashley, please go get me a Coke, I need it. I really need a Coke. I haven't had one for dinner yet. Please go get me one. But make sure it's from McDonald's. Now, it was around Thanksgiving, holiday spirit was high, and we decided to go shopping. On our way there, she pleaded for a Coke. So we stopped by McDonald's, got her a Coke. We went to the mall, and we went to the Levi's store to get some jeans. We pick up a few pants. We walk back into the fitting room. Now, the fitting room had a line of about 20 people to get in and two employees that were hiding behind this big stack of jeans. The fitting rooms themselves were really close together, each of them about the size of a closet. And there was just three of them on each side. We finally get into the fitting room. I go on one side, she goes on the other side. And I'm starting to pull my pants up around my knees to try on this pair, and I hear this psst. And I thought to myself, man, that just sounds like a gas leak or something. I wonder if everything's okay. But I don't really think anything of it. I continue to try on my pants, and then I hear this. Plop, plop, plip, plip, plippity, plop, plop, plop, plop, plippity, plippity. And I said, that sounds really weird. That sounds like solid hitting a liquid. But I don't think anything of it. I just continue to button my pants, zip them up. But this goes on for about 30 seconds, non stop. This. Plippity, plop, plippity, plip, plop, plop, plop, plop. Finally, my curiosity gets the best of me. I open the door to my fitting room to go check it out, and I hear my mom calling me, don Ashley, Don Ashley, Don Ashley. In a complete panic. So I go to push open the door. It abruptly stops after about 5 inches. I have to, like, kind of squeeze my face in, and I'm hit with this wall of st stench. And then I see my mother crouching in the corner of the fitting room. She's braced in the corner against the walls, squatting down with her pants around her ankles. And that damn McDonald's cup, which is one of those, like, extra large McDonald's cups. And there's shit spray around the cup and there's like a little puddle next to it. I think she got the majority of it in the cup, but there was definitely some, like, a little bit on the walls on her legs. And I just kept looking down at this mess and looking back at my mom's face, which was just like despair and embarrassment. And I said, mom, what did you do? What is this? And she said, dawn, Ashley, I really need you to take this cup, get it out of the fitting room. I can't do it. I'm too embarrassed. I can't walk it out there. I just need you to throw it away. I said, mom, I can't do that. I really appreciate all those times that you cleaned up my diapers and my vomit, but this is a whole new level. I cannot carry your cup of poop through a crowd of 70 people to throw it away. In my mind, I just imagined myself taking this cup out and tripping or running into someone and just pee and poop just go spraying all over their clothes, all over the stack of brand new Levi's pants. It was not good. I was scared. I was just really, really scared. And I tell my mom, I really can't. Then she starts crying. So I grabbed the cup and she put the lid on it for me, which was very nice of her. And I started walking out into the Levi's store. Like, as soon as she gave me the cup, I could feel feel the wetness on my hand where she had kind of missed. And I didn't want to know if it was urine or poop. Like, I just blocked my mind from knowing what was on my hand. And I kept walking. I kept walking a little bit more, and then the warmth kicked in and it was as if I had picked up a puppy. And you know that, like, really, like, oh, you're so warm. I want to cuddle with you. But the exact opposite. And then the smell kicked in and I knew I was going to throw up at the this point, but the only hope was that I saw the trash can right outside of the glass doors into the main part of the mall. I was like, maybe two feet from it. So I just sucked it up and I went. And I started to open the door and I heard this beep, beep, beep, beep. And I looked down and my pants were unbuttoned and my zipper was undone and my jeans were too small for me. There was a sensor on the side of my pants. I realized they weren't my pants. Three employees started walking over to me and they were very sweet. They just asked, ma', am, are you okay? Like, do you need anything? Can we do anything for you? I didn't know what to do. I just said, I'm so sorry. I really need to just go throw this cup away into that trash can. Right there. You can watch me. I'm not gonna steal these pants. They're too small for me. I have no use for them. Just let me throw this cup away. I'll come right back in. Ma', am, I'm sorry. That's against our policy. We can take the cup from you and throw it away behind the counter if you'd like said, oh, no, no, no. I can throw it away behind the counter. I don't want you to have to touch my garbage. Like, please, I'll just throw it away for you. No big deal. Ma', am, I'm sorry. That's also against our policy. We actually have to throw everything behind the counter. You can't go back there. Then I see it. One of the only male employees starts to sniff around, look at the cup, and this look of just disgust filled his face. And then it trickled into the other two employees, who both started sniffing around, like, not knowing what's going on. And before I just have to come clean and tell them what's happening and what's inside of this McDonald's cup. I see my mom coming from the fitting room, and as she's walking toward me, she's pushing through. All the people and just gasps are following her to the front of the store. People are shocked. People are horrified. She gets to me, she grabs the cup, she says, donna, Ashley, go get your things. Go put your pants on. We're leaving. She walks outside of the store, and as she's walking away, I look at the back of her bright white linen pants, and there is just a huge brown smear going from her butt to her ankles. And it looked like you had taken, like, a fudge sundae and just smeared it all over her butt, all down her legs, and then taken more fudge and thrown it on top, but then, like, threw some corn and, like, peas in it, too. She walks outside of the Levi's store and sits on the bench that is right next to the trash can facing the store. I run back to the fitting room, get my things, put my pants on, run back outside with my head down. I don't want anyone to see my embarrassment. I'm beet red. I'm sweating uncontrollably, like, I just want to get home at this point. So I met my mom outside of the Levi's store, and we start to walk to the car, and I'm a good 10ft away from her, but I know where she is because I can smell the stench that's coming off her pants. She casually looks in the Hallmark store. She's looking in the Disney store. She's window shopping, taking her sweet time getting to her car. Mind you, while all this is happening, she still has the cup that's filled with her feces in her hands, walking around short pump mall like she doesn't give a shit. You know, we finally get to the car, we get in, we haven't said a word to each other at all. She sets the cup in the cup holder and, you know, she says, oh, I think that it'll be better if we throw it away at home. That way, you know, it won't stink up a trash can. It won't harm them all at all. So it's smelling up our car along with the poop that's covering her. I have all the windows rolled down. My head is outside of the window. I'm trying to, like, gulp in fresh air because I know I'm gonna get sick. And then my mom just nonchalantly asked me, dawn, Ashley, do you want to stop and get something for dinner? Are you hungry like Mom? No, I just want to go home. I just. I'm so. I just. Let me go home. Like, I'm not hungry. I'm good until, like, tomorrow or the next day. She goes, are you sure? We can just stop by Martin's and get some steaks. Doesn't that sound good? Does she want some steaks? I'll just grill them up when we get home. At this point, the idea of steaks and all the stuff that's on her makes me sick. But I stop myself because I realize that the stench if I throw up into the car is going to be triple worse if I was to do that. I just am thinking to myself, man, of all the ways that my mom isn't put together, this is the worst. Like, she can't make it to a proper bathroom to just relieve herself. Like, why can't she do this? We would go on road trips when I was little, and every single road trip, every year, she would shit her pants in the car, in her pants, on our seats. I think we replaced our upholstery in our car at least 10 times a fortune went into this. My mom has no shame of, like, asking my brother and I to help her out with her bowel functions. But this is the first time she's ever done this in public, in front of other people, and not in the privacy of her own seven family members. It amazes me how my mom continuously wants people to think that she's all put together and how she's Able to do it even when she's a complete mess. I mean, it's almost as if everyone around her are the only people that are being upset by this and getting their panties in a bunch. She's perfectly fine with, you know, whether she got into something that's super embarrassing or got a dui. No matter what, she still has this image of like, yeah, I got my shit together, no big deal. And I think because of that, I definitely have, like, a newfound respect for her.