Well we have all had our akward moments here in life. I would like to set a color to the stage of this fine the thread production by a true tale of me wanting to die.... (If you do not want the long intro jump to the arrow)
In the early summer of 1994 I decided to jump a couple of states (studying in Ohio at the time) to visit some friends for social activities and alcoholic indulgence. Being as usual late to the airport I zoomed though check-in and headed straight for the bar for a quick brew. These twenty minutes resulted in two blend American pseudo-beers. My watch looked angrily at me and the both of us left for gate 67 (this gate number is fictional, only to make a point of excessive walking to gate!). By the time I arrived there they were closing the gate. I sped into the airplane, a Jetstream turbo-prop, if memory serves right. The plane took off into the hot summer afternoon.
--->The flight was about three hours between Ohio and somewhere (connection airport). After about 30 min my bladder feel like a punch ball being heavily assulted by a semi-professional boxer. The seating was 1 then and isle then two. I excused myself from the obese stinky lady occupying her and 5/9 of my chair. She huffingly got up. I went to the back of the airplane to take a monster leak. Yet long and behold no fucking toilet there, oh well did a 180 and headed to the other side of the airplane. Instead of finding a toilet I found two pilots munching lunch... So I asked "Dude, where is the toilet?" The co-pilot reached behind his seat and gave me a barfbag. "Here you go man!" His bright smile send shivers down my spine. I took the bag went back, huffy lady once more unoccupied our seats and I sat down. After another fourty minutes I realized that I was going to have a kidney meltdown if I didn't get my now medically astoundingly large bladder a break. Huffy lady moved again and this time made some reverberating remarks from the pink flabby flesh pertroding from her fat glossy face.
So I went to the back and with hour and change left on the flight and let it go into a waxed fucking paperbag. Needless to say this stired quite the emotion in the plane as twenty some faces stared down the aisle in disgusted disbeliefe. I tried to think of other places around earth but was zoomed back to this devils attraption called Jetstream. Once done (which was quite a large amount of "used beer") I decided that taking this fine days catch to my seat and holding it was a no-go.
After racking my brains for some thirty seconds then decided to fold the short top and stick the contents into the lower hatrack (by the floor used by the pilots as a place to put their bags). I went back to my seat Huffy lady stared at me like I had eaten her last food, sat down wanted to disappear, figuring that shit could get any worse! Well Nooooo...
The ride went smooth until final approach, then it got bumpy, oh yeah REAL bumpy. I heard people gasping for air in the back figured they were afraid of flying or something. Then the tangy unmistakable smell of urine hits me I watch in terror(see the pilots new urine is acidic=kills wax good. Bless their ovver paid asses) as the urine runs slowly , not unlike a sanke stalking its prey, down between the aisle. Well needless to say I wasn't the flavor of the day. I wated for eveyone to dissembark staring out of my window hollow eyed. The day I wanted to die.....
In the early summer of 1994 I decided to jump a couple of states (studying in Ohio at the time) to visit some friends for social activities and alcoholic indulgence. Being as usual late to the airport I zoomed though check-in and headed straight for the bar for a quick brew. These twenty minutes resulted in two blend American pseudo-beers. My watch looked angrily at me and the both of us left for gate 67 (this gate number is fictional, only to make a point of excessive walking to gate!). By the time I arrived there they were closing the gate. I sped into the airplane, a Jetstream turbo-prop, if memory serves right. The plane took off into the hot summer afternoon.
--->The flight was about three hours between Ohio and somewhere (connection airport). After about 30 min my bladder feel like a punch ball being heavily assulted by a semi-professional boxer. The seating was 1 then and isle then two. I excused myself from the obese stinky lady occupying her and 5/9 of my chair. She huffingly got up. I went to the back of the airplane to take a monster leak. Yet long and behold no fucking toilet there, oh well did a 180 and headed to the other side of the airplane. Instead of finding a toilet I found two pilots munching lunch... So I asked "Dude, where is the toilet?" The co-pilot reached behind his seat and gave me a barfbag. "Here you go man!" His bright smile send shivers down my spine. I took the bag went back, huffy lady once more unoccupied our seats and I sat down. After another fourty minutes I realized that I was going to have a kidney meltdown if I didn't get my now medically astoundingly large bladder a break. Huffy lady moved again and this time made some reverberating remarks from the pink flabby flesh pertroding from her fat glossy face.
So I went to the back and with hour and change left on the flight and let it go into a waxed fucking paperbag. Needless to say this stired quite the emotion in the plane as twenty some faces stared down the aisle in disgusted disbeliefe. I tried to think of other places around earth but was zoomed back to this devils attraption called Jetstream. Once done (which was quite a large amount of "used beer") I decided that taking this fine days catch to my seat and holding it was a no-go.
After racking my brains for some thirty seconds then decided to fold the short top and stick the contents into the lower hatrack (by the floor used by the pilots as a place to put their bags). I went back to my seat Huffy lady stared at me like I had eaten her last food, sat down wanted to disappear, figuring that shit could get any worse! Well Nooooo...
The ride went smooth until final approach, then it got bumpy, oh yeah REAL bumpy. I heard people gasping for air in the back figured they were afraid of flying or something. Then the tangy unmistakable smell of urine hits me I watch in terror(see the pilots new urine is acidic=kills wax good. Bless their ovver paid asses) as the urine runs slowly , not unlike a sanke stalking its prey, down between the aisle. Well needless to say I wasn't the flavor of the day. I wated for eveyone to dissembark staring out of my window hollow eyed. The day I wanted to die.....
