It all started innocently enough...
I took the kids to the grocery store yesterday (bananas, veggie sausage, napkins). As we were walking across the front of the store (think bananas to frozen veggie sausage), we passed a woman who was walking from the front of the store to the back (think bananas to the deli counter). She paused to smile and coo a bit at my kids, told them how cute they were, we smiled at each other and then all went our own separate ways.
A few minutes later, I found myself walking across the back of the store, and noticed the same woman standing in line at the pharmacy. And then I noticed that she had toilet paper sticking out of the top of her pants in the back. It wasn't even subtle. Oh no - she had a considerable amount of toilet paper sticking out of her pants. It was in two places, really, on both sides, and looked to me like maybe she had used a public bathroom and covered the seat with paper and then somehow forgotten about it and swooped the whole deal up into her pants. I admit that I kept right on going. I hate telling people something like that, because it is embarrassing for them and embarrassing for me and so I tend to just leave the job to someone with better-developed social graces (which is nearly everybody, I am the embodiment of awkward).
But as I got two and then three and then four steps past this woman, my conscience got the better of me. I mean, we had passed a pleasant moment in front of the cookies and crackers aisle not five minutes before. She had acted kindly toward my children. And she had this problem that could happen to anyone, and was I really not going to tell her about it? That seemed like, I don't know, a violation of the Social Contract or something. I decided something had to be done, and I had to be the one to do it.
So I backed up with my grocery cart with the big plastic red car on the front and sidled over to this woman and said rather quietly in her ear "Excuse me, Ma'am, but you seem to have a bit of toilet paper stuck in your pants." And she said "My goodness" and reached around to try to grab it and I was trying to direct her and - well, you know how things can sometimes get confusing behind your back? She just wasn't getting the job done. So I decided that I would have to help her. And at this point I was fairly well horrified at myself, because was I really about to touch someone else's toilet paper which had been put to I knew not what original purpose? Why yes, it seemed that I was. So I told myself that being the good person sometimes meant squicking yourself right the hell out and that it was nothing that copious amounts of soap and hand sanitizer couldn't cure.
So I grabbed both visible ends of the toilet paper and pulled. And it didn't come out. I remembered my t.p. on the seat theory and figured she could have quite a bit of the stuff down there, so I pulled harder. And then I came to realize, all too, entirely too, egregiously too slowly, that it wasn't toilet paper after all. It was her adult diaper.
And I... well.. my god. What do you say to a woman who was innocently minding her own business when you decided to walk over and give her a Depends wedgie? I stammered something along the lines of "baah weeb gittlert maop" and ran away as fast as I could. Which wasn't very fast since I had that land yacht of an impossible to steer plastic car cart and I couldn't very well just abandon the children there by the diabetic supplies, now could I?
So I got away, escaped over to dairy. And then I crawled in behind the orange juice and died. Very sad, really, I know how much you will miss me.