A few days ago I overheard two kids talking about “toothpasting.” Not knowing what they were talking about, I tried to be cool and jumped into the conversation by stating that I “toothpasted” several years ago and would never do it again.
They both looked at me as if I were insane and they asked what happened?
I put my feet up and sat back in the chair as I began to tell them the story of my first and only “toothpasting” incident.
The year was 1998 or sometime around there and I had just moved to Los Angeles. I didn’t know many people and my Mom was living in Tucson. I was sick with a horrible stomach virus and a bad ear infection. I was almost out of toilet paper and needed more Pepto so I drove myself to the CVS store. While I was there I asked the woman in the pharmacy what the best ear infection medicine was. She said they had some drops that were okay but they wouldn’t relieve the pain. So I passed on the drops but purchased more toilet paper and Pepto-Bismol and headed home. I called my friend Tyler who was a former lifeguard and paramedic and asked what home remedy I could do to ease the pain of the ear infection. He said to warm up some baby oil or olive oil and put a few drops in my ear and then place a cotton ball over it. I did what he said, took a few Advil PM pills and crashed out for the night. That next day the ear infection was much better but I was still sick to my stomach. As I sat in the bathroom I called Tyler again and explained the situation. He said he had the perfect remedy and then asked if I had toothpaste? I looked up at the bathroom sink where my bottle of Crest was sitting and said, “of course I have toothpaste, why?”
He said “You should dab a small amount of toothpaste on your finger and lightly coat the edge of your butt-hole.” I was like WHAT? He said, “Seriously, the toothpaste will cool the area and make it feel better in seconds.” I don’t know if it was the lack of fluid in my body or the fact that I was in so much pain from going to the bathroom that I was willing to try anything. But for some reason this made sense to me.
So I hung up the phone, stood up from the toilet with my pajamas around my ankles and leaned over to grab the Crest toothpaste bottle. I could hear him say “just a dab” but in true Heather Robinson fashion, I thought more would be better. So I squeezed the remaining half bottle of toothpaste into my hand, spread my cheeks and wiped it up my backside.
I stood there for a moment and he was right, the pain was immediately gone. As I let out a deep sigh of relief, I couldn’t help but feel a little warmth from between the cheeks. Then like sandpaper to a sunburn, I could feel everything from my butt-hole to my knees catch fire. I waddled John Wayne style over to the bathtub. In tears, I lowered myself into the ice cold water. I called my friend Tyler back and couldn’t catch my breath. He asked, “What’s wrong?” I said, “My ass is on fire. Please come quick.” In that moment he said, “Oh my God… you didn’t!” I screamed, “YES! I DID. PLEASE TYLER HELP ME.” Between the wheezing from his laughing, he asked how much I used. When I told him half of the Crest bottle, he began laughing so hard he gagged himself. Then he said the phrase that I dreaded to hear…”Heather, you need to hang up and call 911.” I told him, “I would rather die right here in the bathtub.” He started laughing so hard he couldn’t stop. I finally hung up the phone and tried to get out of the bathtub.
Like little hangnails of the butt, I could feel the blisters rubbing together. Naked and soaking wet I walked over to the desk fan and turned it on high. I bent over and spread my cheeks while standing in front of the fan. The pain was so intense that I finally did what all morons who wipe toothpaste on their butts do… I called 911.
This was the most humiliating moment of my life. When the operator asked what the emergency was, I had to explain to her what I had done. She was completely professional but I knew, I knew that the minute she was off the phone I was going to be the one who got the “idiot of the week” award.
I reached for my robe and continued to stand in front of the fan. About ten minutes later I heard a knock on the door. The paramedics made their way into the house and found me standing there hunched over, with my cheeks spread while a fan was blowing cold air up my butt. I didn’t want to look up. I didn’t want to see hottie paramedic one, two, three and four standing there. Sure, this was just another day in the life of being a paramedic, but I was humiliated. I wanted to diffuse the situation, but the pain was so bad I just started to cry.
At that moment the paramedics did what paramedics do. They placed me on my hands and knees and got a good look at my blistered butt. I screamed as the plastic of the gloves made contact. One paramedic stated my blood pressure was through the roof. I screamed, “Ya think?! I have a blistered asshole here pal.” They looked at each other and said, “Yep. I think this is out of our hands. Maam, we’re going to take you to the ER.”
As I was telling this story the two kids were just looking at me completely horrified. The one kid said, “Uh, toothpasting is when we rub toothpaste on our nipples to get high. We would never be dumb enough to rub it on our butt-hole.”
The moral of this story…don’t put toothpaste anywhere but your mouth.