Once upon a time I worked for a security company that was contracted by MENARDS. MENARDS has a number of locations (over 200, I think) in the midwestern United States. There is no bathroom in the guard shack area so guards must rely on timely breaks provided by certain managers. Good luck with that! These managers are often very busy with pressing issues. That can leave an isolated security guard with his/her own pressing issue (and I do mean issue in the classic sense of the word). There can be extreme urgency with such an issue, especially when 4 to 6 hours pass without access to facilities. So there I was - in dire distress. I had about 60 seconds to make a decision between horrible choices. My issue was coming out of me soon. VERY SOON.
Choice #1 - Leave my post and gingerly scurry to the bathroom, and get FIRED.
Choice #2 - Fertilize the nearby vegetation, and, if I'm seen, get FIRED.
Choice #3 - Crap my pants.
The third choice might have been my option if I thought it would be a well formed log that nobody else would know about. But I knew that there would be a quantity and consistency (or lack thereof) and aroma that would betray me. I've NEVER had a job that was worth that humiliation. Seriously, it would have been coming out my pant leg.
The first choice had the benefit of actually involving a bathroom but the downside was a certainty of being FIRED. MENARDS is a reasonably good place to work and sometimes reasonably good jobs are scarce in the midwest. I was also at a point where I likely wouldn't have even made it to the bathroom in time. I probably wouldn't have even gotten to a display toilet in the plumbing department in time. Hmmm... I wonder if that's why the display toilets are usually not on ground level.
If I opted for the second choice there was a chance that I might not get caught. There was nobody around and it was dark. Not crapping my pants also seemed like a nice idea. So I quickly trotted around to the other side of the fence and barely got my pants down in time. The river was flowing before I could even squat. I was about 2 feet from the fence but because of the odd angle I was at and the EXPLOSIVE nature of the issue... I was dismayed to find that I had deluged the fence with that horrid sludge. It was bad. It was like something that came out of a sick goat. But at least it wasn't all over me, and I wasn't seen, so I didn't get FIRED.
And that is how I literally pooped on a home improvement store.