This Really Happened!

Or, why don't I have the slightest bit of shame?

This just happened. At the exact instant I discovered what had happened, it wasn't funny. But since nothing really unfortunate happened, it very quickly became pretty darn hilarious, when viewed through the filters of my joy-tilted brain-brew.

I pissed myself. Quite by accident, but still, piss is piss. As piss, it's just a yellow stream, somewhat benign. But when you label it "urine," it quickly passes from a fairly innocuous liquid to a smelly, very ill-favored liquid. So while I pissed myself, the problem came when it turned into urine on my clothing. Yes, clothing.

Obviously you've recognized that the potty seen above is somehow involved in this pisser of a story. Here's how...

I was carrying equipment when I got to this very high-class mens room in a high rise building in a downtown location. So I didn't want to squeeze into the 'normal' restroom stall. Instead I took the 'handicap' stall. I didn't cut the line; there were no handicapped men waiting to use it so I felt not the slightest bit of guilt.

And then as I was sitting to business, I got a phone call. A friend was calling about golf. So my initial efforts as I sat there were placed on autonomic control while the higher centers of my cerebral cortex dealt with weekend golf plans. I sincerely believe that under 'normal' conditions nothing would have happened.

But see that two or three inch gap between the toilet seat and the porcelain bowl? This became the crux of my problem.

With my shorts (Yes, shorts. Eat your hearts out, suit wearers.) were down around my ankles, the pressures-that-be saw to it that the stream of urine that my body relieved itself of, undirected as it was by my otherwise occupied voluntary nervous system, passed through that gap and gravity took it from there.

I wasn't aware of any of this until I was ready to reassemble the façade of fabric that hides the real me from public view.

My shorts were sopping wet. My tennis shoes were liberally coated. A sense that an enormous wrong had been done overwhelmed me. But in very short order I was laughing at myself.

I was early for my appointment, I had a suitable change of clothing in my vehicle (I am now wearing golf slacks and sock-less soft-spike golf shoes on which, thankfully, the soft spikes have been worn down so no one here in this Kinkos can really tell they're golf shoes). I was only a few minutes late for my appointment. After the appointment, thinking about what a silly story this is, I returned to the scene of the grime and took this photo.

So... if my story can save one person from suffering this fate, then my paving this unfortunate road in the wilderness will not have been vain.

And now I'm thinking I might be in line for a Nobel Piss Prize. (Yeah, I'm groaning, too...)