Ari Shaffir: Double Negative Page #5

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Kind of like Miles Davis with the

with the cup, you know, and the tuba.

You'd be like...

You know?

So, I was doing that,

I was peeing and farting.

Then all of a sudden I was like,

"Whoop. Oop."

But I was like,

"No, no, it was just a bubble."

I didn't want to believe it.

And then I went back to my seat.

I was sitting by the window,

so I had to make people get up.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry.

Stand up. Sorry. Excuse me. Excuse me."

Then I sat down. As soon as I sat

down I was like, "Ahh. That's a problem."

The smush happened. Once the

smush happens, you can really feel it.

Yeah, I was like,

"F***. Get back up. Get back up.

We're not done. Get back up.

I thought I was done. I'm not done.

Sorry. Get back up. Get back up."

I had to run to the bathroom.

F***ing streaker right down

the middle of my underwear.

Yeah.

It was about that wide

and about that long.

It looked like a map

of the country of Chile.

Like a topographical map of Chile.

With the mountain ranges and everything.

I caught it.

It didn't soak through.

But the underwear,

the underwear could not be saved.

I had to throw out my underwear

in the trash can of the airplane bathroom.

Yeah, I took care of it myself,

like a grownup.

I handled the situation.

Maybe if I was in first class,

I could have been like:

"Hey, peasant.

F***ing deal with this for me."

But not in coach.

You have to handle it yourself.

You know what it's like

to have to smush that underwear

into that little f***ing hole

in the airplane bathroom trash can?

I was about to leave the bathroom.

Then I was like:

"Wait, hold on."

Right before I left, I took paper towels.

I put them on top of the underwear

in the trash, just to cover it up a bit.

I didn't want

the next guy coming.

I know what I would do.

If I threw something out,

and I saw soiled underwear

in the top level of the trash,

my first thought would be...

"Who did I just pass?"

I would spend the next seven hours

just going up and down the aisles,

just trying to, like, jog my memory.

Until I'm like, "Ah, ha, ha! You did it.

I know. I know what you did."

Yeah, you got to cover it up.

It's like if you kill a kid in the woods,

you've got to kick leaves on top of him.

F***ing pregnant off a Tinder date.

She told the guy, too.

She wasn't going to.

That was her plan.

She was gonna do it by herself.

She was like, "I barely know

his last name." Which seems fair.

Then she had a change of heart

after eight months.

Yeah, eight months and a week.

She goes, "Ari, he has a right to know."

And I'm like, "Yeah, a long time ago."

I feel like now he has the right

to never know.

So, she told him. She met him in a park.

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