1. A very good imagination.
2. Way too much time on her hands in meetings.
as i type, i'm in a meeting. i'm not contributing anything, and barely paying attention (obviously, since i'm on here), but i still need to be here. there are other people in the room with me, all participating, who probably assume that i'm taking notes.
good GOD do i have to pee.
i was really tired earlier, so i went to starbucks and got a four-shot iced soy white mocha (lactose, how i miss you). then i had about ten glasses of water. and now, good GOD do i have to pee.
this meeting will probably last another half hour at the LEAST. i'm just trying to hold it. can you imagine if i couldn't? because good GOD, i can.
i let loose all over the floor, sneaky like a fox, so no one notices at first.
then comes the smell. noses perk up, and then crinkle in disgust.
the chick sitting next to me (who doesn't like me - her boyfriend flirts with me whenever he comes to visit) notices the puddle surrounding my chair. she blushes bright red, and pretends she didn't see it, all the while rolling her chair inch by inch away from me.
the guy sitting on the other side of me (who does like me - he flirts with me too) sees her inching away and looks at me, and then down at the ground. he surreptitiously drops his napkin leftover from lunch (we've been in this meeting for awhile) onto the puddle.
the person sitting across from him - who is visiting our office - bends down to helpfully pick up the napkin. his hand touches it, and notices that it's wet. he looks all around, and pushing his chair back, stands up, loudly saying "what the hell?!?!"
chaos ensues. all 8 people in the room back away from me, trying to act mature, but at the same time in shock. they head for the door sitcom-style, getting stuck in it from trying to all get out at once. the chick who had been sitting next to me (the one who doesn't like me), screams "let me out!!"
the receptionist in the lobby overhears this. she panics, leaps up, and pulls the fire alarm.
some people peek out of their office, assuming it's a drill. some come running, pushing open the door to the stairwell and heading down.
meanwhile, i'm sitting there, dripping.
the people peeking out of their offices ask what's up. the receptionist, still freaking out (she's a little high-strung from coming to starbucks with me earlier), yells that everyone needs to clear out.
everyone else starts running for the stairs.
i roll my dripping chair over to the window (i'm not sure i want to stand up), and see crowds of people collecting across the street. people are pointing at the building, trying to see if they can detect smoke.
my boss runs past the conference room i'm in, and comes back once he sees me. he asks me if i'm coming. i say no, that's alright, i'm fine. he says, "but there could be a fire. we need to get out." "no, i don't think there's a fire" "how do you know? if it's not a fire, what is it?"
the building is clearing out, and we hear sirens approaching. my boss grabs my hand and yanks me out of the chair, pulling me out the door towards the stairs. he drags me behind him, my feet slipping around in what used to be beautiful leather sandals, but are now urine-drenched, which i assume makes them not quite as fashionable as before.
we make it down the six flights of stairs, and outside. a few hundred people are waiting around outside. the receptionist is talking to the firemen, jumping up and down trying to explain that she heard someone scream that we had to get out.
the chick (who doesn't like me) and the guy (who does like me) are both standing in a group with the other 6 people who were in our meeting. *they* know what's going on, and are giving me strange looks and seemingly trying to decide if they should tell the firemen what happened.
i stand there dripping, unable to enjoy the attractive firemen, because i'm, well, dripping.
smoke starts to come out of a third floor window. people scream and point, backing farther away from the building.
the firemen head in, all macho and sexy - dammit, even being covered in pee can't stop me from enjoying this.
twenty minutes later, it's over. the kitchen on the third floor is pretty burned up from where someone had put a chinese food container (complete with little metal handle) in the microwave and then left it there, still on, when they ran out of the building.
by now, everyone knows that it was me. that i peed. i'm sitting on the wooden bench, by myself, while people i've never met talk about me. i figure what the hell, and pull out a cigarette. i go to light it, and realize the pack was drenched somewhere along the way.
good GOD i have to pee. and now i want a cigarette.