Jay

My speed crept up to 30 miles an hour, and I was desperately scanning the horizon.

The plan was solidifying.

Hard shoulder, emergency deployment, a quick undignified squat, but then, but then a glimmer of hope, a sign, services, one mile.

One mile felt like a hundred, but I had to fucking hold on.

I locked my ass muscles so tight I'm fairly certain I pinched a nerve.

I made it, just barely avoiding the nuclear option.

Plan B, sticking my thumb up my rusty sheriff's badge to temporarily stem the tide.

A walk and a squat and you'd think the drama ended there, but no, my aforementioned mobility issue.

Combined with the extreme clenching meant my dash to the toilet was an unholy spectacle.

I was shuffling, wobbling, lurching.

A perfect mashup of Forrest Gump doing the Elvis hip shake.

I finally burst into the men's room.

15 cubicles.

All fucking occupied.

Straight into the urinal.

Straight to the urinal.

Sink.

I don't give a fuck.

Into the sink.

The line was longer than the queue for a Ryanair flight, and I fucking couldn't hold it.