I don't know why, but every time I enter a 7-11 or a dressing room I have an urgent need to urinate. Perhaps it is some subconscious thing; I am no psychologist. The dressing room I can somewhat understand, though still strange. The urgency during 7-11 visits may stem from my past frequent Big Gulp consumption. But Anyway....
About 10 years ago my Aunt was visiting from out of town. We decided to go shopping at a Kohl's. (they have great sales) We each had an armful of things to try on and went into the dressing room area. I was in a middle dressing room. I don't remember if she was next to me or across, it matters little anyhow. As you probably know, the dressing rooms are not rooms at all but tall cubicles with open bottoms. If you bend over you can see the feet of the person next to you.
The usual occurrence happened. I suddenly had to pee badly. I can normally hold it in until exiting the dressing room, sometimes with a little pee-pee dance. I managed to get through trying on the items I brought in with me, non of which fit well. Then I dressed back into my shirt and skirt of light and flowy fabric. At this point my need to urinate was an emergency and my reflex is to partially bent over, frozen, to hold it. The moment the urge subsides enough to stand up and find a restroom is the goal. But sadly, that moment never came. I was fighting the flow, hoping, praying this would end in my favor so I would keep a shred of dignity. I ended up losing the good fight in my hunched over position, on the floor, soaking my skirt. There was a visually wet spot on the floor and I was noticeably soggy. In a panic, I put the clothes I brought in onto the wet spot to cover it up temporarily. No doubt that ruined their chance of being sold. The next order of business was to find an alternate skirt or pair of pants- anything so I could get the hell out of there before anyone noticed. Luckily, the person before me left unwanted items behind. There was a pair of pink stripped clam digger pants, only a couple sizes too big, but fit enough to stay up and wear out of the store. I put them on, balled up the wet skirt & underwear and probably put in in my bag, I don't remember but am sure I tried to hide the evidence. While all this was going on I maintained banter with my aunt, so she was unaware of the unfortunate drama happening less than 10ft away.
We left the dressing room. My aunt noticed I was wearing something different and I gave her some cockamamie story about loving the pants. I decided it was time to go asap. Ripping off the tag, quickly paying, I maintained my cool. I could not get out of there quick enough.
Throughout this traumatic event I was laughing, as that was all I could do. I was embarrased, but it was funny to me. Like a scene of a movie involving the pathetic main character in a situation you know will end badly, and it is all their fault. I did end up telling my aunt what happened and was laughing when I told her, hoping she would laugh too. She looked at me in shock and there was no laughter. At least she didn't tell too many people.
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