Tuesday, December 16, 2008

When Bladders Attack

My friend Gingerbread Girl, as she usually does, had an awesome story for me when we were out on Saturday night. It had gone down one night earlier, and she had barely slept, but seemed to be sustained purely on the hilarity and ridiculousness of the previous evening.

This one starts, as many good stories do, with her trying to make an ex-flame jealous. At the bar the previous night, she started scoping dudes when her ex-boy toy showed up with his new girl. One thing led to another, the pawn she was using to incite jealousy became a king (ok, maybe a bishop? they like doing freaky stuff), and said dude was brought home. Gingerbread is a lady, so I'll skip the details here, but suffice to say they tried to have a good time but were a little too drunk to do so.

This is where the probaby predictable plot twist comes in. Gingerbread girl wakes up and notices that she is soaking wet. Now, mind you, this was a little bit confusing because, as I said, she hadn't had enough of a good time to be sweating profusely or even a little bit. After feeling around, smelling herself, and observing the passed-the-fuck-out Bishop in the bed next to her, she reached a conclusion that is all-too-familiar to many of us. The Bishop had wet the bed, and he was snoring on, oblivious to his indiscretion.

At this point, I think we all have the same question (or, at least myself and Iceman did): "Did you take a shower?" The answer is no, folks, Gingerbread girl decided to wallow in the Bishop's filth and instead change clothes. She did take the liberty of laying down a towel before she climbed back into bed with the guy, and proceeded to spend a long night fake-sleeping, counting down the seconds until he realized his error and left of his own embarrasment.

So The Bishop wakes up, looks around, checks to see if GBG is asleep (she is fake sleeping), and realizes his transgression. Here is where the genius begins. He find a piece of her mail to identify her address (and maybe even her name), takes said mail over to the computer, and plugs that puppy right into Google Maps along with his destination address (I need to get this move in my arsenal). GBG then hears the door close, opens one eye to check for the Bishop, and then runs to the door and deadbolts it. Crisis over, right? Wrong. 5 minutes later, her cell phone rings. Ignore, obvi. Then it rings again. Ignore. And again, accompanied by knocking. The knocking and cell phone calling continue unabated for the next few minutes, before she finally relents and answers the phone to avoid waking up her roomie. The Bishop says "Hey, let me in, I just stepped out for a second to get my bearings." GBG sullenly relents. My theory: she lives in BFE, so once he realized that he couldn't really get anywhere without being driven, he decided to double back.

Aside: %age of guys who still would have had their phone on at this point is approximately 7%. Percentage who would have opened the door? Maybe 2%, god help them.

The Bishop triumphantly re-enters the house, all swagger and no shame. "Looks like somebody wet the bed last night!!!" He exclaimed, with a wink and a "this guy" thumb pointing back at himself. GBG, in no mood for joking, was nevertheless impressed by his lack of embarrasment. He then proceeded to ask for a ride home while continuing to crack jokes about his urinary malfunction. GBG sullenly relented (after all, she HAD promised him one the night before), praying for a time machine to somehow make this nightmare end. Along the way, while crackign her Ice Queen facade "Are you mad?" "I think you're mad...go ahead, I'd be mad too if some dude I met at the bar pissed on my bed," he asks her on a date (or more accurately, confirms that a date he had proposed to get into her bed is still in the works).

"So there's no way you're going out with him, right?" I exclaim at this point.

"Well, he WAS pretty funny and cute" replies GBG.

"Yeah, but he PISSED in your BED. You're seriously going to hang out with this dude again" I reply, shocked.

"I mean, I'm not sure yet, but I have to give back his camera that he left"

"Dude, that's the piss tax right there. Sell that shit on eBay and go buy yourself some nice new sheets"

"We'll see," she replied, non-commital. She was texting him all night and I have a feeling this is headed for round 2. For her sake, I hope she reconsiders. For the blog's sake, I hope they drink mug after mug of beer and pass out in the snow.

I was planning to post my own story relating to hooking up/bedwetting, but I guess that will have to wait. In the meantime, feel free to weigh in below. Is this guy's hubris in overcoming the piss, combined with the potential for future stories, enough to balance out this giant bedroom no-no?

What say you, dear readers??

P.S. GBG wants everyone to know that "[she] did shower that day... and clean [her] bed reall good!" And that she's not "nasty."

P.P.S. Mom, any time you want to stop reading the blog is fine with me. I have some stories to tell that I'd rather you not see. Don't worry folks, she will forget how to get to the webpage in about a week, I'm just trying to speed up the process for your sake.

1 comment:

Iceman said...

Classic...wow. I still can't believe she slept the whole night in his piss. How the hell do you put up with that!?