I pissed my pants once. Well probably more than once. But there’s one time I can really remember. Probably because it was in a room full of other kids. They say school can be like a prison but what I wouldn’t have given for a disgusting old toilet in the corner of the room. I would’ve happily dropped my pants to the floor and let it flow. (Why do little kids do this? Why?! They look ridiculous, do they know their asses are showing?) But alas, there was no toilet, and I had to wait for some fat constipated fuck to come back with bathroom pass before I could leave. And that’s all she wrote.
What else can you do at that point but go to the bathroom and pretend like you haven’t been sitting in your own urine for the last 5 minutes. You stand at the urinal, but you’re empty. Can’t delay any longer, time to look at the mirror and face the consequences. And yep you’re fucked, no doubter. You pissed yourself kid and everyone is going to know.
But you don’t give up that easy. You don’t go to the nurse either, because there’s a 100% chance that pussy with his 3rd stomach ache that week is going to overhear the nurse and tell everyone. Nope, you only got one choice. You gotta make up a ridiculous story and hope to god enough people buy it. So you start splashing water all over yourself and get those 6th grade wheels turning. “Yeah, I went to the bathroom and there was a puddle, and the wet floor sign was in Spanish…. I didn’t even see it until after, so I fell and landed right on my ding dong, yep sure did and…uh.. then I had to clean floor! That’s why I took so long in there…and that’s why the puddles gone! Yeah…that’s it.. But uh… I’m going to sue this school, for all the…ding dong pain”.
Strangely enough some of the kids are so dumb that they believe it. A lot of kids apparently are too young to have learned how to lie properly, and therefore have no idea when you’re completely full of shit. It’s amazing. As for the juvenile scumbags who know a lie when they hear one, you just keep denying that shit until the day you day. Or until the day your soul dies and you write blogs about it.
I bring this memory up because I was in the bathroom at work recently (hey thanks, no passes now!) I spend a minute at the urinal and then I’m done pissing. Or so I think. Because the next thing I know it, I’m pissing again. Thing is… I’m now washing my hands. Pants are zipped. Almost 30, definitely pissed myself. Just a little (does this clarifier help the situation?) but oh yeah, still obvious.
Inevitably someone walks in: decision time. Tell a semi-stranger that you’re a grown man who can’t control your bladder, or tell a ridiculous lie and hope your coworkers are as dumb as you are. I went back to my desk hid, underneath for the next few hours, and I was home free. But I sometimes I wonder if Bob thinks I’m really the only poor bastard who got a defective cup from the water cooler.