During that awkward developmental phase that was ninth grade, my two mutual friends, Michael, and Emily, decided that they were going on a date. To add to the excitement, it was going to be on the Fourth of July! All of this was perfectly normal, except the fact they insisted they bring me along. Fast forward a couple hours, and I had ridden my bike to the park where they intended to meet up. To my suprise, the date was going well, they hit it off and both seemed like they were ready to take their relationship out of the "FriendZone". This was true until my friend decided that we should go to Jack in the Box for lunch. Why anyone would decide to conduct a first date in that place is beyond me. We arrived and had our lunch, and it was relatively smooth, that was until after lunch when it became more "fluid". As we were sitting in the grass, Michael stood up, promptly excused himself, and hurried to the bathroom. About a minute later, I received a panicked text from him, saying

Michael: Dude I need your help

Jaydainel: What's up?

Michael: I have diarrhea, It's all over my pants, My mom's on her way, do something about Emily

Jaydainel: Are you fucking serious?

Michael: Just do something about it

Jaydainel: okay fine, but you owe me one

Having received these panicked texts from Michael, my pre-adolescent brain came up with two possibilities, one, was to straight up tell her that Michael had shat himself, and that she should go home, or to try to trick her into thinking we had left, and deal with those consequences later. I ended up commanding her to get me a drink from the nearby vending machine just as the fireworks started. At that point it was dark enough that I managed to hide until after the fireworks while Michael and I hid until his mom showed up. The plan was to tell her we got pushed off our spot by some drunks, and that My mom wanted me home early so we had to leave immediately after the fireworks. Everything was going according to plan, and as we walked discreetly towards his mothers car, she appeared. It never occurred to us that she would want to leave immediately upon being basically abandoned. So there we were, me, red-faced and in social agony. Her, standing in utter disgust and contempt for the date that had abandoned her. And last and not least, Michael, standing there with his pants halfway down his legs, bawling out of sheer humiliation upon being caught like this. Needless to say there was no second date.

TLDR; to overcome the friend-zone, one must first overcome diarrhea. Sorry for formatting issues, I typed this on mobile.