Mom... I am so very, very proud of the fact that you have somehow swindled my brother into showing you several of my blog posts. Your cunning and deceit astound me. But this is NOT something you would necessarily want to read about your only daughter. You have been warned.
Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
When I was a sophomore in college, I went to a huge dorm party on the co-ed campus across the street called The Zoo. This party ended with two of my friends leaving without us to go to Steak N' Shake while another was ticketed for being a minor in possession.
But that's besides the point.
Anypoorlifedecisions, after arriving at the party in all of our awkward, under dressed glory and many rousing games of Fuck the Dealer and Kings later, I was decidedly good and schmackered.
Said schmackered-ness had my brain thinking that Creepy McLoser across the room was worthy enough of my attentions.
Said attentions lead us to his room where he proceeded to have a 'little problem'.
I would have simply left after the 'little problem' surfaced (or didn't surface... whatever), but one friend was possibly in the slammer, the others were gorging themselves on greasy, delicious amazingness. It was also after 2:00am and thus, I was technically not allowed to be there.
So I just went to bed with every intention of waking up at at the ass crack of dawn and making my walk of shame back across the street to my college.
Then it happened...
I had to pee.
Now, many possibilities went through my (still very drunk) mind at this point.
I could have peed in the sink - but I'm really short, a girl, and was afraid that sitting on it would break it off the wall.
I could have snuck downstairs to the women's bathroom - but if I was lucky enough to even make it that far without being caught by the rector I might as well just leave.
I could have creeped to the men's bathroom down the hall - but I was at equal risk of getting caught.
So what brilliant idea did I decide was the best course of action? Peeing in the solo cup I brought into the room and then pouring it down the sink. Perfect! Fool proof!
Wrong and wrong.
I grabbed the cup, set it on the floor (Why on the floor? I have no earthly idea. I was drunk.), dropped my pants, and began to relieve myself.
(Honest to God I am having serious issues typing this without laughing right now...)
Once I was finished, I began to stand up when my jeans hit the lip of the cup and KNOCKED IT OVER.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I had just spilled my urine all over this guy's floor.
Let that soak in for second.
(Pun totally intended.)
So I did the only thing I could think of: I made like a Shepard and got the flock out of there.
(Thank the good Lord above that this guy was a senior and I never saw him again...)
* I did break parietals once more after my senior formal, but it was in my best friend's dorm room and I was graduating in two weeks and I didn't care anymore.