peed my pants
I was at a party that was flat out awesome. One of those DJ’s killing it, everyone’s dancing like maniacs, my bangs stopped looking good hours ago but I don’t care parties.
Another fact about me: I have a bladder the size of a Dixie Cup. The story of my life basically alternates between two scenes — walking back from the bathroom or having to go to the bathroom. It’s a problem in many situations — long car trips, dates that last more than an hour and dance parties. When I’m really in the groove, I can’t stop bumping and grinding and face sweating just because I have to pee. The groove holds me hostage…and I like it.At this party, I was caught in a dance floor vs. bathroom showdown. For about five songs in a row, the dance floor was winning. If my bladder could talk, it would have yelled, “I get that you like Outkast. I do too. Let’s just take care of some business. You’ll be back in time for the chorus.” But my bladder doesn’t talk, so I kept dancing.
Then, it happened. My bladder gave out. Not in a slow, let’s warning tinkle way. In a full on, fire hose way. I was peeing my pants. On a dance floor. In the middle of a crowded party.
I sprinted to the bathroom and made it to the toilet before any pee had leaked out the bottom of my jeans, which was a small relief in the puddle of grossness I was wading in.I hiked up my wet jeans and shamefully headed out of the bathroom, ready to grab my coat and dash home to a shower and hand sanitizer. When I stepped out of the ladies room, though, I heard the opening trill of Jackson 5’s “ABC.” (I told you, this DJ was killing it!) It’s really hard for me to keep still when Jackson 5 is on. They don’t call me Jackson 5 Julie for nothing. (Another fact about me: I’ve spent my whole life gunning for the nickname Jackson 5 Julie. It’s never caught on.) I saw my dance circle waving me over. I felt my feet tapping. My hips swaying. And before I knew it, I was back on the dance floor, shimmying up a storm…in a pair of pee soaked pants.
After Jackson 5, Kanye came on. It’s pretty much sacrilege to leave a party when Kanye’s playing. And then Gwen Stefani. Same thing. Another can’t miss song came on after that. And then another. Before I knew it, the party was over, my pants were dry, and I’d peed my pants at a party and didn’t go home.
I didn’t tell any of my friends what happened until the next day. And even then, they refused to call me Jackson 5 Julie. I mean, what else do I have to do to prove I deserve that nickname? Sheesh!
Are you grossed out by this story or amused? What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you at a party? Tell us in the comments.
peed my pants