He wrote a post today about not being able to use the facilities at his parents' house and mentioned that he has considered taking it outside. Which reminded me of an, erm, "incident" when I was about 19.
My parents had a Christmas party one year and one of the guests stayed the night because he lived rather far away and had been imbibing the wobbly pops. Somewhere around 5am, my bladder woke me, so I made my way upstairs to the bathroom, only to find it occupied by said guest. At the time, the only bathroom in the house was the en suite in my (sleeping) parents' bedroom. I went back down to my room and waited for Mr. Guest to finish his business.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
At that point, a FULL HOUR had passed, and aside from feeling like I was going to explode (*cough*again*cough*), I wasn't so sure I wanted to use the bathroom after all the time he'd spent in there. O_O When the big hand hit 6:30 and my teeth started to float, I became desperate. I didn't want a repeat of the Famous Pants Peeing of '94. As I frantically did a mental inventory, my eyes came to rest on the old ice cream bucket peeking out from underneath my bed (for as long as I can remember, I've kept an ice cream bucket under the bed "just in case" I need to puke in the middle of the night).
Could I?
NOOOOOO.
But what were my options? I still had to pee. Mr. Guest was STILL in the damned bathroom.
So, I did. I peed in an old ice cream bucket in my bedroom. When I was done, I ran to the laundry room, tipped the contents down the laundry sink (and before you even suggest it, it's one of those tall, deep suckers, and I'm 5'2: it would NOT have worked), rinsed everything with hot water followed by a liberal dousing of bleach.
It never occurred to me until just now that I could have ninja'd (is so a word) into my parents' room and used their bathroom. I r smrt. *shakes head*
* * *
In his post today, Badass also linked to one about hearing his parents have "relations." Which also reminded of an "incident" when I was 15 or so.
My bedroom in the old house was in the (unfinished) basement under the living room. My parents' room was above me to the right. One night my friend Tina spent the night on the hide-a-bed (my room was ginormous). We were lying in the dark waiting to drift off to dreamland when this sort of scritchscritchscritch noise started. I lay there for awhile, waiting for it to stop; when it didn't, I asked her if she was okay to which she replied "Yeaaaaah... Are YOU?" because she thought I was making the noise. It took us about 3.7 seconds to figure out just what the noise was.
I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. I was SO pissed at my parents for "embarrassing" me when I had a friend over: couldn't that shit wait until the next night?!?
Guess I didn't know about "date nights" back then... Heh.
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