Pudding Pants
It was me, two of my best friends, two of our boyfriends, and a handful of others.
We were a select few, hand-picked by our young, idealistic history teacher to see Obama speak at an outdoor campaign event. It was 2008.
The drive over was fun. We crowded ourselves in a van, excited and breathless, not because we were going to be a part of history, but because it was a trip to Austin with our friends and we were missing school.
It wasn't until after the event when we were grabbing a meal that the "Incident" occurred.
One of my friends wasn't feeling great. The sun had gotten to her and she needed hydrating. In an effort to make her feel better, my other friend came up with an idea: we would prank someone for a laugh.
I've never been the aggressive, trouble-making type like my friend, so I had reservations. However, my friend was nothing if not persuasive. Her approval was intoxicating.
The victim was unsuspecting (as victims often are) and we were clever little things. He never stood a chance.
Someone ordered pudding for desert at the little restaurant. The pudding went onto the victim's seat while he went to the bathroom.
Hilarity ensued.