Posted by Frodo on December 31, 1999 at 12:15
From the Archives, which I have now entitled:
A Young Lionheart?
It was the end of my freshman year in college, and I had packed all my worldly goods in my open Jeep for the three-hour trek home. My computer, my television, my stereo were all there for the taking, so I knew it would be a nonstop trip. I had a big breakfast which included a large glass of orange juice and two cups of coffee. I did pee right afterwards, but then had to finish packing the stealable stuff. Finally I was on my way.
It was a sunny, mild day, but too cool to go shirtless and show off my bod. Nevertheless, I was experiencing a macho euphoria, the way a 19-year-old male feels when he has "the look" - new muscles swelling the T-shirt and an adult-sized package swelling the snug jeans, cruising along in an open Jeep. I had passed all my finals and life was good!
The euphoria began to fade an hour later when I suddenly sensed signals from my bladder that it was getting full. Every jolt of the hard-riding Jeep sent another message. I was initially puzzled.
Having to pee had never been a big deal to me. I was usually among the last to seek relief when I went out drinking with my friends. Sitting through a long exam was never a problem. Perhaps I took my good capacity and strong sphincter muscles for granted, because I clearly had not considered this problem in my preparations for the drive.
Well, there were no choices here. I couldn't leave my vehicle unattended, so I simply would have to wait until I got home. I could hold it.
I hadn't realized the delayed but insistent effects of caffeine on my system. Those two cups of coffee, fueled by 16 ounces of orange juice, were shifting my kidneys into high gear. I had to pee!
I was more than halfway home when I began to admit that I might not make it. My ability to hold it in was flagging, and even loosening my belt didn't provide much relief. Every bump in the road tested my endurance.
I considered the possibility of peeing in the Jeep, but the prospects of cleaning it out afterwards so that it wouldn't stink dissuaded me. I didn't even have an empty container at hand to use. When I found myself pinching my crotch in desperation, I knew I would have to do something about the situation, and soon.
I took the next exit and drove along the old State highway, which offered no secluded places in which to stop. At last there was a gas station, presumably with rest rooms, and I pulled in. There were two vehicles near the rest room doors, one of them an empty, rusted pickup and the other a minivan with a woman and two teen-age daughters. I parked next to the minivan.
As I stepped out, I called to the woman, "Would you please watch my stuff? This is an emergency!"
The moment I was standing, the emergency became very real. The urge to pee was overwhelming, and I could feel the warmth tricking around my balls. I sprinted for the men's room door but it was locked! As I stood there jumping up and down, the woman volunteered, "I think there's someone in there."
I pounded on the door, feeling the wetness streaming down my legs, and mercifully it opened. I pushed past the older gent who was just washing his hands, and I gushed into the toilet for quite a while. He stood there somewhat amazed, and when I was finally through he commented dryly, "I guess you really had to go." That was the understatement of the year.
My jeans were obviously soaked, and I peered out of the door, hoping that the minivan was gone. It wasn't. I decided to put on a brave front and march back to my Jeep.
The girls in the back seat pointed and giggled. The woman looked very serious. "You poor man," she said, dumping something out of a plastic bag and handing it to me through the open window. "Here, this will keep your seat dry."
I accepted the bag, hot with embarrassment.
"I've been caught short on a long trip before," she said. "I know what it's like."
The girls in the back of the van were still snickering when I roared out, the macho euphoria completely gone. I completed the trip totally humbled. By the time I got home the wetness had faded, though the seat of my jeans was still obviously damp. My mother didn't seem to notice, and I immediately changed into dry clothes.
In retrospect I can laugh at the experience. I've often wondered what stories those young girls told their friends.
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