SWMA | My Tiny Bladder

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I struggled to focus on the loud music playing in my ears and ignore the intense throbbing in my bladder.

I needed to pee, and I needed to do it fast.

The bus driver was annoyingly taking his time to drive carefully on the rocky road and every bloody time the bus lurched, the rate at which my butt hit the seat increased the pressure and made a single drop flood my undies.

This is insane.

I tried hard to listen to the music blasting in my ears but I just couldn't concentrate, it just wasn't working.

I removed the earpiece from my ears and diverted my attention to the scenery outside.

Look at those birds singing and the beautiful colours of the rainbow reflecting in the environment. Oh my look at that flower blooming and that mighty anthill!

I sighed and began to whimper from desperation. Still no improvement.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a future me. Playing with my kids, making love to my husband and calling our dog for - alright this has got to stop. This bus has got to stop.

The staff around me seemed oblivious to the fact that I was burning inside. I decided to tease Henry, the man sitting by me, just to get my mind off of my bladder but he just ignored me and kept on reading a romantic novel. I should've known that he wasn't going to mind me because his whole being was living in the book and almost every time he'd reach a scene where they are about to kiss or make love, he'd pull the book closer to his face as if he didn't want anyone to know what he was reading and would gasp at each intimate scene the couples would have.

Well, at least he's happy.

Still, I scrunched up my nose in distaste and leaned away from him. Everyone else looked calm except me. And if I didn't stop this bus soon, I feared that my tiny bladder would explode from the immense pressure building up in it.

So in order to save it, I took a deep calming breath, leaned forward, reached out to the seat before me and tapped my boss on the shoulder.


No response.

"Jack," I spoke louder. Still no response.

I took in another deep breath and let it out slowly. I was seething and trying to cool the boiling blood in my veins.

"Mr. Nicoles," I called out, carefully.

He turned to face me. "Can I help you?" As usual his expression was blank.


"I need to go," I said hurriedly, the battle in my pants was climaxing and my bladder was losing.

"Who's stopping you?"

I breathed in and out again, trying to lower my voice so we wouldn't attract attention. "I need to pee, you imbecile."

"So?" He hadn't even bothered to lower his voice.

"So," I answered in frustration. "Tell the bus driver to stop so we can take another potty break."

"We took a potty break less than twenty minutes ago," he reminded me, annoyance etched in his features.

"Well," I threw my arms in the air. "It's not my fault I have a tiny bladder."

"It's also not my fault you have a kidney problem." He turned around in his seat. "Keep it."

My mouth hung open. Why this useless piece of rubbish!

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