Thursday, March 29, 2007

Brothers Are We

Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘It Sucks to Be Me’? What follows is funny only if you are not me. In the ordered world we live in, that is ALL of you. Carry on, but please retain some degree of sympathy for the one person in the world that is actually me.

When I travel without BEG to an out of town track event that lasts no more than two days, I pack light. I pack so that I have one carry-on small suitcase. If BEG goes, she’s taking half the house and we are checking luggage so I may as well take more too. But when traveling alone, I dress in one set of clothes and I put my track gear and competition clothes and toiletries in a hyper small suitcase. I will only wear the clothes half the time I’m away, the majority of the time I will be at the track venue in track clothes anyway.

So last Friday morning I dressed in a black silk long sleeve mock turtleneck and pressed blue jeans. I also had a light jacket vest (black) that was not needed in Texas but was necessary in Boston. On my feet were tan slip-on Arnold Palmer loafers. I looked good, eh? At my side was the small suitcase the brown-eyed girl had tried to separate from me earlier. Barney Fife had released me on my own recognizance.

I retrieved my boarding pass from the e-ticket machine and then sat at the gate reading for an hour and a half. Remember BEG dropped me off early? Ten minutes before the time shown for boarding the plane I went to the men’s room. I’m sort of a micro-planner. I wait until boarding time is near to go pee so I don’t have to go on the plane. Because I waited, I really HAD TO GO; full pee load on board.

When I turned the corner of the men’s room I saw all the urinals were occupied. I went for a stall. I rolled the suitcase in behind me, closed the door, unbuttoned and zipped down the fly of my jeans. I reached in for the man part and pulled Sleepy free. That’s right, all us men name our penis. My part is aka ‘Sleepy’. Too much info? The thing is that a penis is always in the dark. It only has two functions. If you think about it a penis spends most of its life in the dark hanging around and doing absolutely nothing. So I figure they do a lot of sleeping. I would if I were a penis. Sleepy seemed like an appropriate name to me. Some guys go for Big Jake or The Big Boy, which seems grandiose and even fantastical to me. I like the understated ‘Sleepy’.

So as I was saying, I pulled Sleepy out of bed and aimed him at the big bowl. It was time for him to do one of his infrequent tasks, the lazy slob. For you women that have not been around men, we typically hold our man hose in one hand and the other hand holds the pants slightly aside. I know you can see this in your mind’s eye. All you guys know I’m right. That was my position as a full stream of saved up pee splashed into the porcelain and water below. A second or two after commencing, my cell phone rang. It was in the pocket of my ‘carpenter style’ jeans on the outside of my right leg about mid-thigh down.

I could still aim Sleepy with my left hand and reach down with my right hand, but that meant I would have to open the phone with one hand, push the talk button and hold the phone to my right ear. That seemed very awkward to me. I devised a workaround on the spur of the moment. I retrieved the phone with my right hand by slightly squatting and reaching down while continuing to hold my best friend with the left. Since I was in a stall with the door closed I pushed my jeans downward enough to create a safe trajectory for the stream, exposing half my rear, but it freed my left hand (Sleepy was peeing solo at this point). I used the now unoccupied left hand to transfer the phone to my customary listening ear on the left.

I said hello, maybe the only normal thing that was to follow. It was a teammate calling from Houston. He had a horrific story to tell about one of our teammate’s car catching on fire at Houston Intercontinental Airport. This story he was telling me is worth telling you, but I’m only going to tell one story at a time since I’m not a skilled novelist. But believe me it was one of those “Are you shittin me!” kinds of stories. I was totally absorbed by the story of the fire in Houston, but I could also feel my pants starting to slip farther down. I instinctively retrieved them a little higher while I listened. Totally amazed by my comrades story I continued to pee and listen. Then I felt something warm on my right leg. I looked down. Sleepy was no longer aimed at the bowl.

When I had pulled my pants a little higher during the phone conversation I had pulled the fly to a position high enough where I was peeing half into the bowl and half into my jeans. I adjusted in a split second. I told my friend I had to go. No, really GOODBYE, I’ll see you in Boston.

I finished. I pulled up my jeans. From the crotch, where the trajectory had been aimed, to just above the right knee they were soaking wet!

I had accidentally peed my pants! These were the only pants in my possession. It was approximately 3 minutes until boarding time. In the stall stood a grown man with peed pants. He owned a ticket to Boston for a flight that was scheduled to leave in minutes.

I assessed my options.
1. Go to Boston on a totally full flight with peed pants.
2. Don’t go to Boston.
3. Tear the bathroom to pieces in a fit of rage.
4. Accuse someone else of wetting my pants.
5. Take off my pants and soak the whole thing in the lavatory and declare my dryer at home is broken.
6. Have a brain hemorrhage.
7. Put on my track clothes and fly to Boston looking like a semi-retard.
The track clothes I had packed looked a lot like this gents.

I chose option 7. I heard the boarding announcement for my flight over the restroom intercom. I opened the suitcase and rifled through the contents in a near panic. The confines of the stall were not helpful. I found the running gear. I took off all the other clothes. Have you ever been standing totally naked in a toilet stall at the airport? It’s very weird. Even reality TV can’t invent my life. Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes.

I put on the running clothes. I re-considered not going to Boston. I wondered how to explain to teammates that I couldn’t come to Boston because I peed my pants. I hurried faster, my elbows banging against the sides of the stall. I smushed all the clothes, yes including the jeans, into the suitcase that was not designed to carry that much. It bulged like it was going to have baby suitcases. I tied my running shoes and hit the men’s room door in a light trot. The suitcase was tucked under my arm like a gigantic square football.

I was the last person to reach the jetway entrance. The gate agent took my pass and gave me a ‘twice–over’. She asked if everything was alright? I said, oh yes, most certainly. I pretended people fly everyday wearing track clothes. What does she know anyway, she only stands at the boarding line each day.

The last man on the plane walks down the aisle with a pregnant suitcase wearing the clothes of a man who appears to want to challenge other passengers to a race on board the plane. What the hell, its a long flight. Every face on the plane searches mine for a clue to my secret. I gave them the biggest and sunniest actor’s smile I could summon. Of course right now I have a mouth full of braces. I think I looked a lot like Eddie Murphy in Bowfinger as I smiled my way down the aisle to the only seat left on the plane.


I squeezed into the middle seat next to a young mother holding an 8 month old baby boy named Evan. On the way to Boston, Evan and I became best of friends. After all, we have some things in common. We have man tools. We pee in our pants. Brothers are we.

20 Comments:

Blogger patti_cake said...

Oh Seven, poor you! I can relate to that rushed/panicky feeling. I was the last one on the flight out of O'Hare and I felt like all the other passengers were glaring at me going "Geez get it together lady".
However I cannot relate to peeing my pants and being naked in an airport bathroom. Sorry on that one.

I'm sure you're the cuter between you and Evan. Braces and all! You still haven't posted a pic in said braces either *hint*

March 30, 2007 at 7:14 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

Oh. My. Gawd.

I haven't laughed so hard in ages. Tears streaming down my face. This is one of those things I will think about later and laugh out loud.

I realize this was not funny to you but, man, you did an incredible job telling the story.

'Accuse someone else of wetting my pants'....priceless.

March 30, 2007 at 7:15 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

March 30, 2007 at 7:15 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

March 30, 2007 at 7:15 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

March 30, 2007 at 7:15 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

Is it funny that my comment showed 4 times? Like I've never commented before...

March 30, 2007 at 7:17 AM  
Blogger Lynilu said...

LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL

Ohmygawd, I'm hurting! Sorry, 'cause I know for you it was not funny, but I'm still chuckling! Oh, dear!

Honey, has anyone ever explained to you that you have voice mail on your cell phone? It is precisely for moments like that! You do NOT have to answer every call as it comes in. It is OK to let it go to VM. I promise!

Well, I'm just happy that you found a brethren spirit with whom to commiserate your life during the flight. See? There is a silver lining to everything!

Traveling light is good. But even then, I take one change of clothing. I've never peed my pants, but I also don't trust that I never will!!

Thank you for making my day!!!

March 30, 2007 at 11:29 AM  
Blogger kathi said...

I don't have 'man tools', however, being a squatter that refuses to even sit on seat liners, I've had my share of...accidents and have often thought of keeping a spare change of clothes in the car.
So...as much as I laughed reading this, it's as much from understanding completely as it is from enjoying your story telling.

March 31, 2007 at 11:37 AM  
Blogger Steve said...

:^D Very funny and good story Seven. Thanks.

March 31, 2007 at 7:44 PM  
Blogger Mayden's Voyage said...

Seven...LOL :)
Here's a good rule~ (at least I think so)-
When "Sleepy" is out...just let the phone ring ;)

So...did you buy new clothes, or go to a laundry before the return trip home? :)

April 2, 2007 at 4:05 PM  
Blogger fatty said...

Hrm, it compares to my experience on a Aerolineas Argentinas from BA to Ushuaia.

Not long in to the 3hr flight in a tiny one aisle plane, i ordered tea and somewhere between dunking the teabag and taking the first sip the entirety of the teacup ended up in my lap.

So not only was my lap burning, my pants and underpants soaked, the seat was also wet. I was given a lot of paper toweling and handtowels to pat things dry. Being offered a towel doesnt help, because you can't get out of your seat with your pants soaked very obviously around the entire crotch area to go to the bathroom anyway.

So I suffered a lot of jokes and uncomfortablity, and the pain once it set in, before getting off, very thankful that my pants had dried sufficiently to not be noticibly wet.

April 3, 2007 at 5:42 AM  
Blogger ~Deb said...

Awe, ... you know, some men "squat"... Nothing to be ashamed of or unmanly about it. (hehe) But seriously, sometimes I think it would be great to be a man, if I had to pee, pull over the side of the road if there are no rest stops, etc... seems to easy.................or is it?

I feel for ya Seven!

April 3, 2007 at 8:10 AM  
Blogger kate said...

omg I am really loling!

First that you named it Sleepy... and IIIIIIIIIIIIIII know that! omg

Second the mental image of you boarding the plane... gosh

Very funny and we have all been in a similar spot havent we! lol

Cheers Kate

April 3, 2007 at 9:19 AM  
Anonymous Rob said...

7, you are one humble and funny guy. Not afraid to provide the personal example. an admirable trait. So, when did you share this adventure with BEG? and her reaction?
I couldn't help but rethink the title to "Brothers are we-we". Nice job at Boston, BTW.

April 3, 2007 at 10:01 AM  
Blogger Seven said...

Cakes,
Trust me Evan had the 'cute' thing going on. I am SO self-conscious about the braces!

Jenny,
I guess someone else peeing my pants would have been quite a 'stretch'?

Silver Lovely,
Much like BEG you always know exactly what I should not have done! Where are you when I need you!

Kathi,
BEG refers to that as 'hovering'. hehe. Funny word. Funny image.

Steve,
Want to paint that story?

Cora,
Yes, I had them laundered by the hotel. Are you somebody's mother?

Fatty,
Then I know you know the weird humiliation that comes with 'appearing' you wet your pants...except I really did wet my pants...sort of...

Deb,
Men squat? Really? Where? In the US?

Kate,
I don't know about a similar spot for others , but I can vouch for complete humiliation.

rob,
She read it for the first time right here. I was in the room at the time. She turned her head and just stared at me in wonder. You would think she would have grown accustomed?
I like the title re-do...:)

April 3, 2007 at 11:37 AM  
Blogger Steve said...

Seven,
Andy Warhol did some pee "paintings" where he peed on metal and oxidized it. Thanks for your visit to 3DPoetry.. the photos should be back up now. I'll be back to read your new post soon.

April 3, 2007 at 1:09 PM  
Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

SEVEN!!! I've been trying to get on your page and well, you wouldn't believe what was there instead. Do I need to change my link?

April 7, 2007 at 7:09 PM  
Blogger kathi said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

April 19, 2007 at 5:35 PM  
Blogger Robert Shapiro said...

Are you on hiatus?

April 28, 2007 at 12:08 PM  
Blogger Seven said...

Hi Robert,
Yes, I was, but after a long conversation with BEG this weekend I think she set me on a renewed course regarding my writing. I will be back shortly and this will be the functioning address. Thank you for caring and for inquiring.

April 29, 2007 at 10:10 AM  

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