Driving up to Burbank to have dinner with yet another potential Mr. Right that I met on Plenty of Flakes .com. I knew better than to keep drinking from the bottle of water in my cup holder, but out of habit–I did. And like always halfway to the restaurant with at least another 30 minutes to go and bumper-to-bumper LA traffic I felt the pressure building in my teacup of a bladder. I turned the radio up to sing along with Jimmy Buffet for a distraction but ironically “Margarita Ville” just triggered more thoughts of drinking which of course lead to more thoughts of how badly I had to weedel.
The line for the valet was six cars deep and time was running out. I remembered a story I once heard from one of my pregnant girlfriends about how she used one of her kid’s dippers to pee in while she was stuck on the freeway in a sig-alert. I look around the car but the best I could find was a pair of gym socks and an empty Diet Coke can. But instead of having to throw away a perfectly good pair of socks or risk the inability to pee in a tin can like a guy, I decided to wait for the valet attendant to park my car.
“Welcome to the Airport Hotel and Spa Resort mama, will you be checking in this evening?” “No, I’m just meeting someone for dinner. Where’s the nearest ladies room?” I said as I threw my car keys on to the top of my dashboard and flung my car door open nearly taking out the young perky attendant. I sort of wished I’d nailed him with the car door for calling me “mama” like some old woman but then I may have had to fill out an accident report and I didn’t have time for it, this racehorse needed to fly.
“Your name please mama?” “Ms. Truly”, I snatch the claim check from his hands knocking his black Sharpie ink pen soring into the Up-do of a Bride-to-Be getting out of a white stretch limousine.
“The ladies room?” I shouted as I did the two-step Pee-Pee dance shuffle. With no time to spare I pivoted towards the hotel entrance as the attendant shouted, “Through the foyer to your…..” Too late, I didn’t have time, to my right, to my left; it was about to make no difference if I didn’t keep moving. The beautiful 10 foot high waterfall gushed down an entire wall of the hotel and the trickling sound of water left me no choice but to speed-walk past the gift shop, lobby bar, ATM machine and finally reaching the coveted restrooms.
Thank God the door was wide open. A cleaning woman stood just before the open door pushing her mop back and forth across the marble tile floor, warning the patrons of the wet floor with a bright yellow cone. “Hola, Senora…” I heard slightly as I plowed right by her. “Senorita” I quickly corrected her as I sighted the first stall straight ahead. “WOW…!” I sighed with utter relief as I hovered over the lovely porcelain toilet bowl.
I quickly adjusted into position my pretty new lace panties and hiked my tight knee-high black straight skirt back down over my hips and unlatched the hook on the bathroom stall's heavy beautiful wooden door. Nervous but excited to have a relaxing dinner with a new very attractive man who I’d never actually met in person but who seemed adorable in his Internet photos and on the telephone when setting up our first date.
With a robust burst I opened the stall door. “Crrrap! I’m in the men’s room” I said under my breath as I stood from the reverse angle with a clear view of a row of urinals all lined up along the wall. “Kristina, is that you? It's Troy, from the Internet"
“Yes, Troy-so nice to meet you...um, I’m sorry, I um,” I stuttered as I tried not to stare at my dinner date’s penis as he stood to shake. “Well, nice to meet you too Kristina. You don’t mind if I wait to give you a hug do you?” Troy said as he carefully zipped up his trousers.
"No, No, please finish. I mean take your time” My cheeks nine thousands shades of red, I turned to walk over to the sinks. “I’m going to wash my hands, I mean as long as I’m here hope you don’t mind if I go ahead and um” I kept my head down watching the water flowing over my hands, knowing good-and-well I needed to apply some lipstick but I felt it may be a bit inappropriate. It would have to wait.
“Senora, this is the men’s room” the cleaning woman said pointing to the sign on the door as she pushed her mop bucket from in front of the door as it slowly closed. “Yes, gracias, I see that-thank you.”
Well there was no second date. Who would have guessed seeing your date’s penis before you learned his last name was not such a great ice-breaker? Oh well…NEXT!
Kristina Truly...Oh, what's a girl to do...?
However, I knew exactly what I needed to console me with my sad state of poor pecker picking. I may not get to enjoy Mr. Handyman’s cute-butt-out-of-jeans any longer but I could certainly enjoy a new pair of little strappy sandals to tide me over for now.
