Gotta potty

Channeling the every day from a Larry David masterpiece ... here we go again.

I'm driving home. I have to pee. Really, really bad. I call J to let him know I'm on the way over, so I present you with distraction number one. Distraction numero dos comes in the form of Hobo Man, dancing around in the streets of downtown KC. Not only am I driving from a direction I'm less familiar with, as it's not a daily route, but I'm concerned with car punching the homeless fellow. (Also a little entertained by his show.) I miss my exit and venture into KCK. I find my way back on route, but my detour did not help the need-to-pee situation.

I get across town, 5-7 minutes from J's house. But I am now driving behind a city bus. A slow city bus. Ok, the pee situation is getting worse. I mean, the kind where if I sneezed, I'd probably pittle a little. 10-15 blocks later, I realize I'm not only driving behind a slow city bus, but the bus is driving behind a slow bicycle rider. (There was a trail running parallel to the street. Thanks, jerkface.) Now, even small bumps I drive over render me helpless.

This is the stuff that bladder infections are made of.