The Ex Files, part 1

After reading Nilsa's post about her ex, I felt inspired to bust out some of my own ex-related stories. I have a few floating around in my draft folder and many more in my head - some are serious, some are sad, and some are just plain weird. I think NaNoBloPo is a perfect excuse to finally do something with them!
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I knew it was over with D the night of his 38th birthday.

He came to my place that night to celebrate - I had the scene set with champagne, dark chocolate cake, his favorite candles, and handcuffs. We stuffed ourselves with the decadent cake, downed the champagne, and had some crazy fun. Just as I was drifting to sleep in his arms, I heard him mumble something about needing to use the bathroom.

A few minutes I heard some alarming sounds - sounds that were never meant for my delicate little ears... grunting... loud farting... wetness exploding against the bowl. I slowly raised my head and glanced toward the bathroom (which was right across from the bedroom) in horror. Um, yes, he had left the damn bathroom door open! Now, it wasn't like we were a long-term couple and were just so comfortable with each other that we felt okay about pooping in front of one another (just for the record - it's never okay to poop in front of me). In fact, we weren't even dating exclusively - he was just one of several guys I had been casually seeing over the last two months. But for some godforsaken reason, he thought it was okay to leave the freakin' bathroom door open while he pooped. Oh, and it wasn't even a regular poop. It was a serious ass explosion!

A few minutes later, he called out something about how the cake and champagne must have been too much for his stomach, and oh, would I please toss him some reading material? I grabbed the nearest magazine on my nightstand (the latest issue of Granta), tossed it across the room (there was no way I was going into that bathroom!), and asked him to please close the door. Not only did he ignore my request, he also had the nerve to ask if I had any reading material with pictures! I pulled the covers over my head and pretended not to hear him. I also put a pillow over my face to try to block out the terrible smell that was now invading the room (it was something like a combination of rotten banana peels, spoiled milk, and puss). It was horrific!

Almost an hour later, he crawled back into bed and attempted to coax into having sex again. Needless to say, I played dead. He left for work early that next morning... and yes, that was the last time I ever saw him. In my book, no casual fling is ever worth having to endure ass explosions!