You’re driving. You hit a pothole. You regret every life choice that led you to that 24-ounce soda. You turn the radio off because the bass vibrations are now a personal threat. You consider pulling over at a gas station, but the last time you did that, the floor was wet and the toilet paper dispenser was empty. You clench. You pray to the traffic gods for a green light.
The Pee Dance.
You know the dance. You know the math.
You’re driving. You hit a pothole. You regret every life choice that led you to that 24-ounce soda. You turn the radio off because the bass vibrations are now a personal threat. You consider pulling over at a gas station, but the last time you did that, the floor was wet and the toilet paper dispenser was empty. You clench. You pray to the traffic gods for a green light.
The Pee Dance.
You know the dance. You know the math.