Oh the holidays and their stories, right? Well, every Thanksgiving Eve, I’m reminded that somewhere between Dallas and a little town in Oklahoma, a family is sitting around their dining room table and one of them says to another, “Hey, Jim. You remember that Thanksgiving when the girl peed in our driveway?” And Jim says, “Yeah, Bob. That was hilarious.” And then everyone laughs because the story of the girl who peed in the driveway never gets old.
Well, here’s my version…
I was a bartender/college student living in Dallas and had to drive to my brother’s house in Oklahoma for the holiday. Because I spent so much money on booze, I mean books, I had to work my regularly scheduled lunch shift on Wednesday but planned to leave directly from the bar and make the three hour drive.
So the lunch shift flies by, I jump in my T-bird, and start on my three hour drive. I should add that this period of my life revolved a lot around my fairly serious coke addiction. Not the powder stuff. The brown, liquid, bubbly stuff. A few minutes into the drive, I hit up a drive-thru for my fix and slurp down the largest coke I can get my hands on as I sing at the top of my lungs with Janis Joplin about me and Bobby McGee.
Then we stop. Not singing. Driving. Stop. No movement. Brake lights. And all of a sudden, just like that, I have to pee. Thanks, Coca cola.
I pound on my steering wheel then calmly breath in and out thinking that it’s probably just a wreck and that we’ll be heading North again in no time, but no, no such luck. We sit forever. FOREVER until finally we start moving, only we’re not going North on the highway, we’re exiting and heading into the middle of nowhere, and it starts to rain. By this time, I’m sitting on my foot, freaking out that I am going to have a serious bladder explosion all over myself, telling myself over and over that there will definitely be a Dairy Queen at the next corner, or a gas station, or ANYTHING, but I’m on a road in the middle of flipping nowhere, and the only thing I see is millions of brake lights in front of me and head lights behind me. So I decide that I am going to turn on the next dirt road, pull over, and just squat behind my car because I have no other choice.
I see an unmarked unpaved road and turn. I drive for about 2 seconds before my bladder decides it’s time, put my car in park, jump out, and pee. And. It. Is. Heavenly. At this point, as I heave a giant sigh of relief, I look up to see that I’m not on an empty dirt road but rather in a driveway, and there’s a house with a big picture window in front and a family sitting at a dining room table, and they’re all staring at me. Oh, I should mention that I didn’t even bother to close my door, so my interior light is doing a fine job of illuminating my peeing in the driveway. Horrified and unable to interrupt the flow, I assess my situation while cursing the giant coke. I grab a pen and bang it into the hinge of my door in hopes that it will at least turn off my interior light. And by the grace of God, it works. I finish my peeing and jump back into my car. I slam my door shut ready to race off, but it flies back open. “What the hell?” I scream to myself. Then I realize that in trying to remove my spot light, I have managed to break my door, and there are people sitting at the dining room table having a nice family meal that was just interrupted by some blonde girl peeing in the rain in their driveway, and OH MY GOD! WHAT DO I DO?
I grab the same pen, say a quick prayer, and jam my pen back into the hinge at least a half a dozen times, and then…sigh…my door closes. I reverse out of the driveway, and leave the nice family a great Thanksgiving story to tell for years to come about the girl who peed in their driveway.
Happy Thanksgiving. May you experience something worth telling again next year.
Cellulite Looks Better Tan 
I love this story! I wish someone would come pee in my driveway. Well, not literally. I mean I wish I had a great thanksgiving story like this. I mean, I have weird aunts who put vegetables in their noses….but wassup with no chic peein’ in my yard?? Sometimes the world just isn’t fair.
CONGRATS ON BUSTIN’ YOUR BLOG CHERRY! I love your first story. It’s perfect. I would love a place to sign up to get email notifications of your posts. It’s in widgets. I see those posts (personally) more than the ones in my reader. I have tons of blogging “advice” for you that took me forever to learn, iffin you want it. You probably don’t need it. You rock. 🙂 Loving you hard. Your blog name is kick-ass. I kind of hate/love you for it right now cuz mine sucks. Whatever. Pouring myself some more wine…..
btw, another person told me tonight I don’t look anything like my avatar photo. So there’s that. I don’t look ANYTHING like the pretty photo of myself. Neat. I can’t tell you how much I love hearing that.
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Screw whoever said that. Your avatar photo is spot on! And thanks. Come learn me on blogging. Lord knows I need it. Do I get some sort of trophy for the cherry? And sadly, this is only one of my many embarrassing thanksgiving stories. I love you back. You are my blog inspiration. Teach me, wise one. I need the force.
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what are you doing up so late? Are you drinking, too? juuuust kidding. Maybe.
I don’t think there is a blog-cherry-busting-trophy. If there is, it’s that you officially just got more comments than I got on my first three posts combined. BOOM. Like a BOSS. See how easy that was? Here’s the secret to blogging. Comment on other blogs. Period. That’s your marketing/networking right there. That’s the only way *we* know you’re out there. Visit a zillion blogs you like and comment on them. Don’t know any? Visit the ones that comment on mine to start. Then try to post at minimum 2x a week. that’s it for tonight. tip your waiters.
Happy thanksgiving, btw! try to keep your freakin’ pants on in people’s driveways. Or not.
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Oh, and thanks for saying I look like my avatar. You’re officially the only person who thinks that, including my husband and children….so, you’re getting my fortune when I die. You’re welcome.
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Beth, you rock my face off! I have tons of questions. Thanks for your advice. Twice a week? Holy lots of writing, batman. I’ll do my best. Don’t know if I’m two stories a week kind of interesting???? I’m up late for no reason. I’ve been banned from making anything that requires heat for thanksgiving, so I should be nestled in my bed, but no. I’m typing on my phone and probably making oodles of errors. Happy thanksgiving. So thankful Mrs Kuhlman brought you to me.
Sent from my iPhone
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I’ve had dreams about the woman in that avatar…
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She really does look like her Avatar.
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Love this story! It put a smile on my face this Thanksgiving Day. I am blessed and thankful to have you and your wonderful family in our lives!! Congrats!!!
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I am so thankful for you, my dear friend. I hope you’re enjoying your trip home. Miss you like crazy. Oh, and thanks so much for reading my humble little blog. 😉
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LMAO! Hilarious! Love it 🙂
I’m from Oklahoma and have a crazy family, so this story could be one right from our T-day dinner! Congratulations on a great first post. As far as a blogging mentor..you couldn’t get any better than Beth! She’s tha bomb when it comes to blogging 😉
Look forward to many more great blogs from you! Hope you had a great Thanksgiving! 😀
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Thanks so much for reading my embarrassing story. Oklahomans are OK. Ha. I love me some Beth. I stalk her blog. I hope I can keep entertaining you. Happy thanksgiving to you and yours.
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Okay, best Turkey-Day-Tale eva!! My only advice would be the next time you get caught with your pants down. Break into song! That way the dining family has not only pictures but soundtrack to go with their movie. Nothing worse than a silent film. And your car should get the cherry. It’s been my understanding that the lights in a show are operated by a technician. Unless that T-Bird comes with a guy name Rory or Skip, that spotlight was a fluke or you got one hell of a bird baby! Either way, we’ve had the best laugh of the holiday, the only other gut-buster coming courtesy of your first commenter the crazy chick herself, Beth! Hope we get a cool ass Turkey day story like this one day. Minus the brutal stabbing of a car door hinge, by Bic. ❤ Sharing this now!! 🙂
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Haha! I should have broken out in song and danced. I’ll do that next time. Oh wait…maybe not. I prefer not to urinate in strangers’ driveways anymore. Much to my husband’s dismay, we stop rather frequently for potty breaks on road trips, long or short because frankly, I really don’t want to get caught with my pants down again. As for the T-bird…she was one helluva car if that means she broke down a lot and provided me with endless stories. I could have named this blog, “Tales from my T-bird” on her stories alone. In fact, I could write about her shenanigans all day. Maybe I will next.
Thank you so much for reading my little blog. Beth is my blogspiration. I love her stories, and I love her even more than her stories.
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Too funny! I wonder if the family argued over who had to spray the “stranger pee germs” off of the driveway the next morning. YUCK!
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Oh, I never even thought about it. It’s quite possible. Maybe the one who sprayed the pee gets to tell the story every year!
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Hahaaa, that’s a great story and an excellent way to kick off your blog. My first story was more of experiment in trying to hit the Publish Button and see what happened.
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This was an experiment, too. I was a nervous wreck hitting publish, and then my husband said, “It’s not like anyone is going to read it.” And I thought, “I’ll prove him wrong.” And look, you read it. Na na na na na.
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