There comes a time in every one's life when they are embarrassed (I seem to have many). They trip over their own foot and look around to see if anyone is watching. Or they slip on ice and fall on their butt. Or they even have things happen to them, like getting pooped on by a bird. Me? I pee my pants.
I don't wet my pants on a regular basis, so don't get excited. And I don't have a bladder control problem. I am just thinking back to embarrassing moments, and a few seem revolve around me soaking my skivvies in public.
I recall the first time was when I was in the second grade. I was the "Holly Boy" (Why couldn't they change it to Holly Girl?) in the school play, and from that, got a scholarship to take ballet class. At the ballet studio, they were very strict. About two months into my lessons, I had to "go" during class. The teacher said to hold it, so I did. When my parents came to pick me up, I told them I had to go to the bathroom. They me to hold it till we got home. Well...I couldn't. I peed my leotard in the lobby of the ballet studio, right in front of all my friends. My mother took me out to the car, and sent my father back in to clean it all up. Oops.
The second time it happened, I was twelve. Now, there are VERY few kids that wet their pants at the age of twelve. I'm one of those special ones. It was "Field Day", and all the kids were outside for the course of the day. There were egg tosses, sack races, and three-legged races. Everyone was having a good time, everyone but the girl that had to pee. Yes, me.
It was a very hot day, and I had to pee from the moment we stepped outside. But the teacher said to hold it until we all came in for a bathroom break. I tried, I really did. But by 9am, I had soaked my pants. I didn't want anyone to see, so I did my best to hide. I put my back against the wall of the school for a while. I even hid behind other kids. Then, when it became too difficult, I came up with a brilliant plan.
I decided that since it was REALLY hot outside, the best way to cool off (and hide all the pee) would be to sit on ice cubes. Nobody would question why I'm sitting on ice. I got a bunch of ice cubes from the drink stand, and I set them in a pile on the ground. Then, I sat on them. All day. All stupid day. Everyone kept coming up to me and saying, "Ann, why don't you come and play this game?" And I would respond, "Oh, no, it's SO hot outside. I need to cool off by sitting on ice.". Yes, I was miserable. Yes, my pants were soaked with pee and water. And yes, my butt was frozen. But I'm pretty sure people just thought I was weird, and not "the girl who peed".
The THIRD time it happened, I was 23yrs old. Look, it happens. I had gone to the doctor on a Friday for pelvic pain. He really didn't know what it was at the time (turned out it was Endometriosis), so he gave me some pills. When he gave me the prescription, he warned me, "When you feel the need to go, GO right then!". It was very ominous. So I started taking the pills that Friday night.
Over the course of the weekend, I realized what the doctor was talking about. As soon as I felt the need to pee, I had to get to the bathroom. I had very little ability to hold my bladder. Who makes a pill like that? But I handled it like a pro, at least over the weekend.
Monday came. Time to go back to work. I was a mortgage processor, for a different company than the "chair" incident. And it was a very large office. I worked WAY in the back of the building, about a half mile from the bathrooms....as I'm sure you can see where this is going.
I made it through the day without an issue. Then, as 4:45 came, I felt a twinge. I had to pee. Alright, all I had to do was get to the bathroom. I moved in and out of offices, working my way to the front. People tried to stop me to talk, but I said, "I'll be right back. Hold that thought!" I felt the twinge again. My pace quickened. I only had a quarter mile to go.
By the time I got to the front of the office, I was jogging. I only had a 20ft hallway to go before the bathrooms. I was booking it now. And running full speed apparently jostled me a little too much. As I reached the door to the bathroom, I felt the warmth running down my legs. Damn. So close.
Luckily, I was wearing black pants, only now, they were just a little more shiny. I walked back to my desk, trying to hold my knees together, so that I didn't fling pee particles on people's belongings. I gathered my coat and purse, and headed straight for the door. I didn't care that it was not yet five o'clock. I had to go home and shower.
And finally, the last time I wet my pants was just a few weeks ago, in a porta-potty mishap. I indulged on a very large Margarita during the city's annual food festival. I was feeling great. Hours later, I had to pee, like any normal person would. Since I was outside, I decided to step into one of the ten porta-potties located on a side street. My friend, Brenda, stood guard.
It was pitch black as the door shut. But being in a porta-potty before, I knew the general layout, just bend down and pee. So, I dropped my drawers and started to pee. Now, being a girl, I don't sit on toilet seats in public places. I hover. One, I don't get germs on my legs. And two, it's a good workout.
So as I am letting forth the flood waters of the giant Margarita, I realize that my legs are getting sprinkled with something wet. Hmm, that's interesting. Then I start wadding up toilet paper and blotting, and trying to get my legs dry. I drop the toilet paper and my legs feel more "spray". I got more toilet paper. Same thing. I said to Brenda, "I think something is wrong". She responds, "I'm leaning on the door, just pee".
As light shines from a crack in the door, I see that the floor of the porta-potty is wet. Hmm, that's even more interesting. I got more toilet paper, as my backside is still feeling damp. I dropped it and was splashed again. Finally, the mountain of toilet paper was now reaching my butt (and that's up in the air). Panic set in. I was yelling to Brenda, "Let me out, there's a problem!" She replied, "Just PEE!". And I pushed and pushed on the door until she let me out.
Looking back into the porta-potty, as the light shined in, I finally discovered what the problem was. Someone had put the lid down on the toilet. I had peed on top of the lid, ricocheted pee onto my legs, and then made Mount PeeMore with toilet paper atop the lid. My used Margarita was washing down the front of the potty, across the floor, out of the door onto the street. I made a mess.
As I explained to Brenda what I did, we started laughing hysterically. Then we sat and watched to see who would be fool enough to go in there. It didn't take but a minute. A man walked in, and despite what I thought, did not come right back out. I guess he touched the lid I had just peed on. Ew.
I am not proud of wetting my pants. And I don't think I have a bladder problem. But I do have a tendency to attract situations that cause "stuff" to happen. For some reason, I am a embarrassment magnet.