Friday, June 01, 2007

I get wet

Frankie is a D.A. Supreme irony.

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I almost pissed myself last night on the bus home. Seriously.

After a certain time of night, the commuter buses combine three routes into one, and so makes three times as many stops as normal. Of course, my stop is at the end of the fucking line when this is the case. Here's a map for reference:

The distance from dowtown to my stop, the Fuqua Park and Ride (Point 3), is approximately 17 miles. Points 1 and 2 are other park and rides that normally have their own line of service, but get lumped into the late night, super-route. During peak morning and evening hours, however, it's just a straight shot for me down to Fuqua, no other stops in between.

Anyway, by the time I caught the bus downtown last night to head home, it was after seven, so that meant I was going to be stopping at Points 1 and 2. Strike 1. Additionaly, the logistics of reaching Point 1 are such that the bus has to forego the HOV lane, translating to a slower overall average rate of transit. Strike 2. Finally, from the moment I walked out of my office, my bladder let me know that it was preparing for evacuation. Strike 3.

By the time we reached Point 1, I knew that I was in trouble. Like an idiot, I was sitting at the back of the bus, and the steady rumble and vibration of the engine directly below me was working wonders in exacerbating the situation. I quickly tuned the Ipod to the Blue Album, something I knew I could sing along every word, to try and take my mind off the pain and the pressure. It didn't work a lick.

When we crossed 610, which is a couple miles before Point 2, I knew I wasn't going to make it. The guys next to me and in front of me were asleep, so I figured they would never know if I whipped it out and pissed in the back corner; however, the elderly woman up and over a row probably would know, and probably would mind.

I decided that I would have to make an exit at Point 2. It is several miles away from the Fuqua Park and Ride, so I would basically be stranded there, but I couldn't physically hold it anymore by that point. I was literally bouncing and rocking in my seat, tugging at my dick that had now shrunken so far in it was practically inverted. I bounced so hard that I woke up the brother in front of me.

As soon as the bus stopped, I ran the fuck out. I was already unzipping my pants before I made it off. The second I made it to solid ground, I took three strides to make it 10 yards to a bench, and released the fucking pressure. The bus hadn't left yet. I didn't turn around to see if anyone was watching me, but one can only imagine.

Uncle Tito came and picked me up. He is my knight in shining armor.

The end.

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5 Comments:

At 1:30 PM, June 01, 2007, Blogger Bass said...

congratulations vince, your now that guy on the bus that other people tell stories about.

 
At 4:01 PM, June 01, 2007, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dude, those were my thoughts exactly. I win!

 
At 10:51 PM, June 03, 2007, Blogger Richard said...

Brian and I took turns pissing at a bus stop in East Miami. Just adding a little sabor.

 
At 9:43 AM, June 05, 2007, Anonymous Anonymous said...

See I was actually thinking about that, and I think I may have been better off in that situation. With a concentrated effort, it's a lot easier to suck a turtlehead back up into your colon than it is to pull piss back up your urethra.

Actually, I think pulling piss back into your bladder may violate the second law of thermodynamics, something about increasing entropy over time. Or maybe I'm looking at too short a time horizon for that to be valid. What the fuck ever.

 
At 3:33 PM, June 07, 2007, Blogger Brian said...

hahaha..richard speaks la verdad! i totally forgot - we were full of the brown-bag 40s we just drank while waiting at a late-night stop to go booze in south beach.

i still think it's just a big excuse of why you were an hour and a half late for poker

 

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