I Peed for 92 Seconds

Yesterday afternoon I had a meeting with the Big Boss. My review with my immediate supervisor had gone extremely well last week, so I thought it would be a good idea to get some face time with the BB.

While walking to his office, I realized I was in that purgatorial moment where you kinda have to pee, but not bad enough yet to bother you. Were I sitting at my desk, I'd not get up and go yet. Were I walking directly past the restroom without needing to be somewhere within the next minute, I'd go in. In this instance, however, I was in neither position. I was on my way to the BB's office, and would be right on time without any delays.

"It's only a half an hour," I thought to myself. "It won't get too bad."

Fifteen minutes into the meeting I realized I'd made a mistake. A really big mistake. My water bottle is a cool old canteen that holds about one liter, and I was on my third canteen since 1:00 (it was now 3:20). The meeting was going really, really well, with the topic of my eventual promotion being the focus, so I couldn't very well cut it short and say, "Thanks, BB, gotta pee!"

I stole a glance at the clock on his wall. Only 10 more minutes, I thought. I can do this.

Forty minutes later the BB looked at the clock and said, "Wow, the time flew. I gotta pee."

After sitting there for 45 minutes, sweating, cringing, crippled from the pain, I stood up, managed a smile, and said, "Thanks BB. Me too." He led and I followed, hobbling along with the familiar I've-had-to-pee-for-an-hour stride.

Once in the men's room, he took the left urinal and I took the right, leaving the center urinal vacant, as guys do. The relief was more than I could bear. I started to cry.

Yes, I literally had tears in my eyes. When the BB finished, flushed and went to wash his hands, I was merely a third of the way finished. I stood there, tears rolling down my cheeks, counting off seconds. Sixty-five. Sixty-six. Sixty-seven.

"Talk to you later, Jeff," the BB said as he walked out.

A choked "yep" is all I managed in reply. Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight.

After a full 92 seconds, I was finished. A minute and a half of peeing. While washing my hands, I looked at my face in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and wet. My face was flushed. I started laughing at myself. While walking out, a co-worker walked in and saw me.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "That was just really awesome."