Wednesday, February 25, 2009

To Pee or Not To Pee *

* A thousand apologies for the completely overplayed allusion in the title. But it is, indeed, the question.

Last week Bob and I journeyed to the new Durham Performing Arts Center to see the legendary Willie Nelson. It was a great show and Willie delivered far beyond what I expected from a man who has spent as many years as he has traveling the country high on a bus.

We were delighted to see copious drinking options at the new venue as well as permission to take libations to our seats. And so it was that we settled in to the fourth and fifth seats of Orchestra row Q with 24-ounce cans of Miller Lite in our hands. Willie's backing band, "Asleep at the Wheel", also served as his opening band and they performed toe-tapping yee-haw country for a good 30-40 minutes before the diminutive headliner joined them on stage. When Willie finally joined the stage it was pretty much the exact moment that I realized I needed to pee.

Seeing there would be no break between the opening music and the music we came to hear, I figured perhaps Willie's age would grant us all a set break. So I waited. And looked at my watch. And slowly began to accept that there would be no break, that any bathroom trip would have to be a rogue one, stepping out at the critically appropriate moment, over the feet and laps of strangers, scurrying up the rows trying not to obstruct the view, undoing the belt on the way to the stall, and peeing/buckling/flushing/washing (no time for drying) as fast as possible so as not to miss whatever classic song it would turn out to be that the crowd cheered for as I sat on the porcelain throne.

Of course, just as I accepted that I now really had to pee and there would be no set break, Willie switched from the new stuff that everyone politely clapped for to the greatest hits portion of the night. I pushed my pee thoughts aside momentarily to enjoy You Were Always on My Mind, swayed along with Crazy, agreed I wouldn't let my babies grow up to be cowboys, tried not to picture the opening scenes from Designing Women as he sang Georgia and decided that now, no matter what, whatever the next song was, I was going to have to pee. (all song titles referenced here are obviously lacking in accuracy and are only what I think the song is called).

And then Willie started playing On the Road Again. Now really, how can you pay $65 to see Willie Nelson - $65! - and leave the theatre as he's playing On the Road Again? That would just be ridiculous. And so I waited.

Not choosing to leave the theatre so as not to miss a good song is the saner side of my pee-holding. But I have to admit here that there was also a social anxiety element at play - the paralyzing power of those three strangers between myself and the exit aisle. It wasn't as simple as getting up and going - it would involve "excuse me, pardon me, oops, sorry, thank you, oof...", not once, but twice. Even though this was a concert, it was a sitting concert, and a sitting concert with older people, people who settle in and get their coats adjusted and glare at you in a "damn kid" sort of way when you have to jostle by them to go pee out the 24-ounce beer that they judged harshly in your hand when you first sat down. At one point the guy inside of me, further from the aisle, got up and myself, Bob, and the three strangers all stood up to let him by. I knew I should go then, to limit the rustling of the row by just sneaking through with him, while the pee-denying strangers were already standing. But I balked and missed my moment, hesitating because I considered that myself and Metro Blazer Guy would come back separately, thereby disturbing the triad of aisle defenders too many times. I missed the perfect moment to go, overthinking to pee or not to pee.

In the end, I clapped and cheered and Willie encored and wowed, but only ten percent of me was enjoying the show. Ninety percent of me was thinking pee, pee, pee, pee, pee, pee. It made me wonder how much of my life I have spent missing out, not fully being able to enjoy the experience in front of me because of the nagging persistence of my bladder. It seems inevitable at concerts and movies, frequent on car rides, unbearable on airplanes during landing when I waited too long and now we're quarantined to our seats. It seems only fair that with the majority of time I apparantly spend thinking about bathroom trips, I at least give it a few moments' thought here.

And I wonder now, after reading this tale, how many of you may have to pee?

4 comments:

Amanda Baley said...

you have a guy inside of you?

Anonymous said...

Whoah! My identity has been revealed.

Unknown said...

I loved reading this while nursing. Because of nursing, I have a water bottle permantly attached to my hand, which means I also have to pee often. Whenever I hear Q stirring at night, the first thing I do is run to the bathroom to pee. I can't stand the thought of being "trapped" by nursing when my bladder calls. It's like the airplane scenario. If Q doesn't actually wake up, I'll crawl back in bed and wait. 5 minutes later, if I hear him again, I go back to the bathroom. It's like Q's grunts are a bladder trigger no matter how long it's been. Well that's my pee story and long ass comment... all typed on the phone while nursing, and with an empty bladder. :)

Unknown said...

The time associated with my comment is also Pacific standard. It's really about 3:30 am