The Princess And The Pee

I'll never forget the afternoon my first real college boyfriend took me home to meet his family. I was so excited, it was the boyfriends birthday, and I was going to meet his parents, and lots of his hometown friends. I was twenty, and he was turning twenty-two.

We went to his grandmothers house for lunch, then we were supposed to be at his dads best friends house that evening around six for a fish fry and drinks. We had about four hours to waste before the fish fry started, so we decided to get a couple of bottles of Boone's and a thirty pack and hit the back roads. It was mid March, and it was still really cold outside (I was wearing jeans, black boots, and a heavy wool turtle neck sweater), but it was warm in the truck and the Boone's and beer tasted great. It wasn't long before I had a buzz and desperately had to pee.

Being from a small town, it's understood that you learn how to pee on a dirt road. It's just part of life. So I wasn't shy at all about announcing that I had to pee and jumping out of the truck. Problem was, I was pretty tipsy. His huge lab was bouncing around in the back of his truck, and I was trying my best to hold on to the bumper of the truck, stay out of the mud ( we were out in the middle of a field), and breath since my face was about level with the tail pipe. There is no doubt that I was at least two pounds lighter when I finished. It was not the easiest situation, but I came through it pretty good, or so I thought.

When I stood up and buttoned my jeans something didn't feel right. I looked at the ground, and the reality of the situation hit me. I was out in the middle of nowhere, I was with my fairly new boyfriend, I was an hour from my house and clean clothes, and I had just peed inside of my jeans. That's right, the entire contents of my bladder was now soaked into my Luckies. I was mortified. I didn't know what to do, I had to think fast. I considered slipping and falling into some mud so it wouldn't be so obvious. But I didn't want to wear muddy jeans all day, not that the alternative was any better. So, I did what any quick thinking girl in my situation would do. I jumped my now sober self back into the truck.

I rolled down the passenger window (I could have sworn I could smell pee) and I chain smoked for the next two hours while I leaned in towards the boyfriend. I was hoping this angle would allow for the cool breeze blowing in through the window to dry my jeans before the fish fry started and I had to meet all of this home town friends. I wasn't that lucky.

When we got to the shop were the party was taking place my jeans were still soaked, I smelled like a giant ashtray, and I was freezing. So I put my heavy coat on, thankfully it was long enough to cover the back of my wet jeans, and opened another beer. Oh but things were about to get worse.

The fish fry was in a very nice shop in someone's back yard. It was fully furnished and had a very good heater. I had sweat dripping down my face in a matter of minutes. But I had to keep my coat on, at least until my pants dried. So I did just that, for the next three hours. I probably sweated off 5 more pounds, but it was worth it. No one ever knew! Of course months later I had to tell on myself, the story was just to good not to share.

And that my friends is the story of the princess and the pee!