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March 24, 2005
Why Fly When You Can Drive?
I'm going to my parent's house for Easter. This time I'm driving.
Last time I went to their house I flew and that was an experience not to be repeated. My parents live in the suburbs of a a small town. I think it's the suburbs of a small town. If they live "in town" the town is a lot smaller than I thought. On the other side of their back fence is a cemetery, next to that a farm. There's not a whole lot happening in the town and I feel a bit trapped without my own means of transportation because I have to rely on my parents to get anywhere and they don't like to move a whole lot.
My dad spends most of his time in the basement and seems to find it much too laborious to walk upstairs to the bathroom so he pees into old wine bottles, corks them back up and stores them underneath his desk.
Truthfully, I'm not sure it's because he's lazy -- maybe mom drives him to it. She drove me to pee in a soda can last time I was there. Actually, it was on my way to the airport.
On the day I was to leave I asked my mom to let me know when we should leave. "Ok" she said, and I went about packing up my stuff. Later on in the day she frantically came into the room where I was lying down, readign a book. "Brian! Let's go! We should have left over an hour ago!"
"What?"
"Why are you just sitting around?"
"You were supposed to tell me when it was time to leave."
"You know what time you have to be to the airport."
"Yeah, but I have no idea how long it takes to get there."
We settled it with that and hurried out to the car. I threw the last of my stuff in and expected we were going to leave. "Don't you want something to drink? Or a sandwich?"
"I thought we were an hour late already, let's just go."
"Grab a drink and we'll get going."
So I hurried into the house and grabbed a can of the nearest liquid to appease her and get the car moving.
And move we did. My otherwise law-abiding mother squeeled the tires of her Honda Accord pulling out of the driveway and sped in similar fashion to the very edge of town (about 4 -6 blocks). There, stopped at a light, she turned to me and asked, "Ok. How do we get there?"
"What?"
"How do we get there?"
"I heard you, but why are you asking me."
"What's the fastest way?"
"I don't know. I don't live here."
"I just thought you might have a secret, extra fast way."
"What are you talking about? I've never lived here. I've been here like 4 or five times in my life."
"Yeah, but you used to live in Chicago." I did, for a few years a few years back.
"Well, you get me to Chicago and I'll get you to the airport."
"What's the fastest way?"
"From this way? Probably down 55."
"50? OK."
She pulled hard on the wheel, making a sudden left across a lane of traffic. "What are you doing?"
"You said 50. Right?"
"No. I said 55."
"There is no 55 here."
"...In Chicago."
"Oh. I thought you meant here."
"I don't know any of the roads around here."
"You said 50."
"No, I didn't."
"Well, this way will work. But it's not the fastest."
The only fast thing was me being driven crazy. I thought if not held back I was going to tell her in no uncertain, and certainly not polite, terms how crazy I thought she was. So to stop myself I grabbed the can of Klarbrune - Klarbrune? What is that? - and started drinking it to occupy myself.
The Klarbrune turned out to be horrible tasting water with raspberry essence. It was awful; I couldn't even finish the whole can. I got about halfway through and had to quit.
About 10 minutes after I finally put the can down my bladder started to hurt. I've never had a pain like it before or since. It was like the worst I've ever had to pee times 2. My insides felt like they were about to explode - That tingle. That's my bladder ripping! So even though I felt like a little child I told my mom, "Can we pull over? I have to pee."
"Can you wait until we get to an oasis?" The Illinios tollway has restaurants that span the width of the interstate floating above the highway. You can access them from either side of the highway making them handy for quick bathroom breaks and emergency fast food binges.
"Ok. But we have to stop at the first one. I really have to pee."
"There it is."
"What?"
"The oasis. Pull over."
"I can get over."
"What do you mean you can't get over?" I turned to look out the window and two things happened. First of all I saw more than enough space to get a lane over and on the exit ramp provided she slow down for just a second. The second thing was an unbelievable pain shot through my stomach. "Aah."
"What?"
"I have to pee. Pull over."
"I can't."
"Right now. You have space."
"There's no time."
"Aaah! You just passed it."
"I've got to go. I'm going to pee in your car."
"Brian! Can't you just wait?"
"I don't know what the hell was in that Klarbrune stuff but I really have to go." I picked up the can to look at it again, but it was too dark to see anything. Then I got the idea I could just pee in the can if worse came to worse. "I'm peeing in this can..."
"Brian. Don't."
"If I can't hold it any longer. As a last resort. It's better than peeing in my pants -- since you won't pull over for me."
"I couldn't get over."
It reached the point where I couldn't hold it any longer. I grabbed the can, poured the rest of the vile water out the window and climbed into the back seat. With every move a new pain shot through me.
I unzipped my fly and in the dark I tried to aim everything into the can. Just as I was was assured everything was safe and was ready to release my mom yelled from the front seat, "Brian. What are you doing?" At the same time she jerked the wheel as she turned her head.
The sudden turn jostled things and I ended up peeing all over my pants. I stopped as suddenly as I could and put everything in place and started up again. As time passed I could feel my pants getting increasingly cold and wet.
"Brian. We're almost there."
"I couldn't help it. I had to pee."
"Well, you didn't get it in my car, did you?"
"No. I caught everything with my pants."
"Brian..."
"I know. And I have to walk through the airport with these pants on.
So, like I said. I'm not flying this time.
Posted by calculatoronfire at March 24, 2005 04:29 PM
Comments
Well? Did you make it back?
Posted by: mike at March 29, 2005 04:19 PM
Dude. Let me tell you about it...
Posted by: brian at March 29, 2005 09:33 PM
Dude, you need to hold it!
Posted by: Jeff at November 25, 2005 08:32 AM