Oops…I Did it Again! The Day I Pissed Myself at Work

Friday was my buddy Dave’s birthday, and so to celebrate we met during lunch hour at Benny’s Burritos in The Village.  Benny’s is known for one thing; there cheap margarita specials.  Although I normally never drink during lunch, at just $3 dollars a margarita I figured this one time couldn’t really hurt.  Boy was I ever wrong.

Before I knew it, Dave and I had knocked back $33 dollars worth of mango margaritas in forty five minutes flat, which left me just enough time to make it back to the office.  Saying goodbye, it just dawned on me that I hadn’t gone to the restroom the entire time, which was strange seeing how Benny’s normally runs straight through me like water.  So to be better safe than sorry, I went to take a quick leak before heading back to work.  Since one of the restrooms was broken and there were people waiting to use the other one; being that the office was only ten minutes away, I figured I’d just go when I got back.  With that said–I grabbed my briefcase and shot out the door.

The very instant I walked down into the train station I all of a sudden had to go like crazy.  I thought “Dammit!  Of course this couldn’t have happened just a few minutes earlier when I was sitting practically two feet away from the toilet.”  Since Benny’s was still just right above me I thought about running back up.  But seeing how I had already just swiped my Metro card, I thought “It makes no sense to have to pay another $2.25.  And besides, its rush hour so how long could the next train take?”  So, I just clenched my bladder and waited for the next train to arrive.  After what seemed like the longest two minutes in history, I felt that all too familiar breeze that lets you know the train is approaching.  And true to form, just seconds later the A inched to a stop right in front of me.  “Thank God” I thought.  In eight minutes I’d be back at the office.

Riding the train those five margaritas had really begun to take their toll.  I could barely even concentrate I had to pee so bad.  Lady Gaga and Barbara Walters could’ve been straight up lezzing it up in the seat across from me and I swear I wouldn’t have noticed a thing.  My mind was that fixed on getting off the train.  My bladder was pulsating so that I didn’t even notice the old homeless man giving himself a pedicure in the seat right beside me.  However I did kind of wonder why during rush hour, our side of the car was completely empty, meanwhile it was standing room only on the other side of the train.  If you’ve ever been on a NY subway you know all too well that homeless people have an uncanny way of clearing out an entire section.

Suddenly the train came to a stop, followed by a muddled announcement.  Apparently the train ahead was having problems with their door, and as a result we were stuck until they fixed it.  It was just my damn luck.  Out of all the days in the freaking world, the train picked now to break.  I thought “That goddamn Obama!  Maybe if he’d stop focusing all his attention on that damn unemployment and healthcare, he could start focusing on some real issues like fixing these damn subway doors!  I knew I should’ve voted for McCaine!”  Sure looking back now I guess that did seem a little harsh; especially seeing how I volunteered for the Obama campaign and all.  But dammit I had to pee; and somebody had to take the blame.  After several minutes the train eventually started moving again.  I was saved.  With just two stops to go, I crossed my legs tight and envisioned myself walking into my favorite stall upstairs and letting it rip.

By the time I finally made it to 34th Street, for crazy some reason I didn’t have to go anymore.  It was the weirdest thing: as if the sensation had completely subsided.  I thought, “Wow, my mind must be more powerful than I thought.”  I guess I envisioned going so powerfully, my mind must’ve somehow tricked my bladder into thinking it went.  “That new creative visualization book must really be working.”  But then thinking back I realized that I had always felt connected to a sort of psychic power within.  Excited by my new found abilities, and since I was already on a roll, I decided to head over to my favorite lotto store to play the Mega Millions.  As I handed over my five bucks, I clearly envisioned me and Jay Z on our yacht in Brazil, while Beyonce and Oprah made sandwiches for us downstairs in the galley.  That Oprah sure knows her way around a can of tuna-fish.

As soon I walked out of the store, all of a sudden the sensation came back and hit me like a freight train; only this time far more intense.  I thought “WTF?”  It was like my bladder had secretly played a trick on me.  And honestly, I don’t know if I was more upset about the little baby squirts of pee shooting out my Johnson, or that I didn’t have my psychic powers anymore.  With seconds to spare I started speed walking back to the office; and with eight blocks to go the odds weren’t looking to great.  I ran into the first Starbucks I passed but unfortunately there was a long line for the restroom, and not to mention an old lady with a walker had just gone in.  With no other choice, I walked on.  I had my bladder clinched so hard I could start to feel rumbling pains shooting down my stomach and through my ass cheeks.  It was not looking good.

By the grace of God I finally made it to the lobby of my building.  Almost in the clear; I pushed the elevator button, crossed my legs tight, and did the pee dance as I waited.  When it finally arrived, the ding of that elevator sounded like sweet music to my ears.  By now completely unable to lift my legs anymore, I scooted on and hit the 26^th button.  But then just as the door was closing, a group of women coming stepped on laughing with Burger King bags in their hand; and of course each one hit a different button.  Inside my head I screamed “Dammit!  Haven’t you fat bitches ever heard of bringing a salad from home?  Now I’m surely going to piss myself again, all because these heffas wanted a BK Broiler!”  I crossed my legs as tight as I could, and tried my best to use my mind control.  But by the time we made it to the 11^th floor my poor bladder could take no more.  I muttered quickly, “Jesus please be with me”, and then with no other choice I just “let go and let God”.

Once that levy broke, it was like Hurricane Katrina all over again, only this time in my pants.  I couldn’t cut off the flow no matter how much I tried.  It’s amazing the sense of peace and serenity that comes over you after you finally just let go.  I’m not sure if it was my prayer or not; but just like Waiting to Exhale I could finally breathe again.  I wasn’t even phased by all of the women screaming “OMG, your disgusting!” as they ran off the elevator in disbelief.   By the time I made it to my floor, my favorite little grey suit I got from the Justin Beiber collection at Khol’s was completely soaked from the front to the back.  And to make matters worse, I had just gotten the damn thing back from the last time I pissed myself a few weeks back when those chickens attacked me.  I had somehow even managed to get pee all the way in the bottom of both my shoes.  This was technically not my day.  With my pants and shoes now full of piss, I held my head high as I walked through the crowded office; but to my surprise, no one even seemed to make a big deal about it.  The truth of the matter is, I guess they’d already come to expect stuff like this from me.

I stopped by my supervisor’s desk and exclaimed, “Hey Artemus.  If it’s okay, I think I’m going to head home a little early today.  I just pissed myself again.”  Realistically, there’s only so many times a guy can leave early with that excuse before you just start looking unprofessional.  As I rode the train home on the empty side of the car, with everyone else crowded together on the other side again, only this time pointing and laughing at me.  I instantly knew firsthand the pain and humiliation the homeless people must go through on a regular, constantly being ostracized on the trains for reasons that are out of their control.  I thought, “Who are we to judge them?”  Next, I took one look at the one homeless guy sitting beside me, and for the first time in life, with a smile I responded “Hi man…my name is Brett.  How are you doing today?”  Just then, the homeless guy stood up and shouted, “Man, you smell just like piss!” as he walked down to the other side of the car.

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