Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Let me go just right there!

I was on the second-to-last day of my internship when I had to take a deucer. Being that I was doing something important at the time (give me the benefit of the doubt, I really was!), I held it in until I was done (no homo).

During this time of discomfort and displaying multiple episodes of intense office chair squirming, I was reminded of the time I peed my pants.

I was 20 years old.

I was in the car with my pops coming back home for the weekend from college. I was a freshman at the time with no car, so my dad would just come pick me up and help haul all my stuff back to homebase.

Have you ever just been rushed and got in the car, with the little tingle in your dingle (or pingle? I'm kewl)... but just played it off, hoping that your body could stave off the bladder attacks? This was one of those times. I've done it multiple times -- successfully holding it in for the 1.5 hour jaunt back home.

I guess the tingle in my dingle was a little stubborn this time.

Everything was going well. We're about two exits away from my house when the pee pee knocks on the door. I start busting out with my usual routines -- the shoe tap tap tappie, the squirmy wormy, thoughts about ice cream and bubble gum. Soon enough, I beat back the urine and told it who's bo$$. Whew.

We exit out and the feeling comes back -- I can't stop this feeling. I'm entering Code Red right now and nothing's working. Everything that could go bad was happening -- we were hitting all the red lights in heavy traffic.

"Papa, I gotta go pee!"
"Hold it."
"Just let me pee right there on the side of the road"

My mind was racing. I NEED to go right now!

"Let me go right there!"
"No, we are almost home."

On that last "AHHHHH", the dam sprung a leak. My hands were pressed against the window and the other seat. Looking down, I start seeing a wet spot seeping through my shorts. Growing bigger... bigger... bigger.

I've peed my pants as a grown man.

My dad finally pulls into the 7-11 and I pee the rest out, knowing damn well that it doesn't matter -- the damage as been done. Passerbys were looking, pointing, smiling.

The car drive home was silent and awkward as ever. I didn't even want to be seen.

I swear my pops still remembers that -- every time I bring it up, a little smirk creeps onto his face.

But oh well, you gotta just laugh it off. I'm still a bo$$...... right? ;]


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