So my high school band always participated in this end-of-the-year competition hosted by a neighboring school district. Given that the event was held sometime around April, the weather was starting to warm up. We had to wait around outdoors for a solid four hours until we got to perform, then it was another three hours until the other ensembles had their turns, and one more hour to go over the results, awards, etc.
As students, we didn’t mind too much. For all we cared, we didn’t go to four of our classes for the day.
So as I’ve mentioned, it was a rather warm day. I drank quite a bit of water to stay hydrated. All was well until it was time to go back to our school via the school bus. About seven minutes into the ride, it happened. I had to go pee, and I had to go pee pretty bad. And this is the thing about pee urges – the more you think about it, the stronger the urge gets. And this urge was completely different from the usual. The circumstance was completely different from the usual. I was in a damn 40-minute bus ride for heaven’s sake.
So this is how I’m gonna die. I’m gonna pee in this bus, and I’ll be forever branded as “the band kid who peed in the bus”. I’ll have to transfer schools. Yeah, I’ll just pee now and transfer schools with a fresh slate. Wait, social media though. People will still know. They can take pics. Or videos. And post it online and ohmygod.
Then, the bus got off the freeway and took the next exit. What the heck?
“One of our buses broke down, so we’re pulling over and rearranging seats,” said one of the chaperones. The students (who were awake) craned their necks to see the smoke from the bus next to ours.
Thank you, thank you thank you thank you thank you.
And what great luck to stop at a neighborhood high school, and what great luck that the school and its restrooms were still open at 8PM because they had a home basketball game going on.