Wednesday, February 22, 2012

A pointless story from the past.

I just remembered this the other day and it cracked me up. 

So this one time, I was at a meeting.  It was a stupid, boring meeting that I didn't want to be in. 

I was sitting there, minding my own business when all of the sudden I felt my pants become soaking wet.  Literally.  Soaking wet.  I looked down and, sure enough, my crotch was entirely wet and liquid was running down my legs.  "Oh holy night!" I thought to myself.  "What in God's name is happening to me??"  I started making plans for an abrupt exit of the meeting.  I wasn't sure how I was going to explain to the people at the emergency room that I had some how spontaneously lost control of my bladder and I wasn't looking forward to that conversation. 

Then, I realized (thankfully) that the liquid was not coming from my urethra, but instead from the hollow table.  For some reason, the table decided that at that moment it could no longer hold on to the water that had somehow found its way inside it and that it needed to put the water on me.  Stupid table.

People had begun to notice my hysteria at this point, and I had to explain to all of them what had happened to me.  The meeting got stupider after that.

Moral of the Story:  Bladders and tables are unpredictable. 

*upward hand motion.

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