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.