My name is Ellie, and I was an alcoholic. Not a great way for someone who's barely 21 to introduce herself, but at least now I can say was rather than am... at least most of the time. Cut me a little slack though, growing up dirt poor in the big city isn't easy, and I made it through mostly unscathed. Didn't flunk out, didn't get pregnant, didn't get shot, and didn't terminally damage my kidneys, though I came close to a few of those (okay, maybe most of them). However, those are stories for a different time.
At 21, I had mostly turned my life around. I was doing decent in college; had mostly stopped drinking, most of the time; and had met Dan, my first boyfriend who wasn't a gang-banger. But my previous lifestyle had left some marks: after getting my act cleaned up, my doctor (the first I'd seen since early childhood) diagnosed me with overactive bladder syndrome - probably a result of excess alcohol consumption he said, and probably something I'd be dealing with for the rest of my life.
One night while reading online I saw an ad for a new line of "sexy" incontinence underwear. Sometimes it scares me that Google knows I want something before I even know it exists. They actually looked like underwear a normal 20-something year old would wear, although with their decent looks came some trade-offs: they weren't designed to hold much more than very light leaks. That was fine by me. Most of the time I made it to the bathroom fine. When I didn't, I usually didn't leak too much, but when you're out in public, returning from a bathroom break with even a small wet spot is still pretty embarrassing. Needless to say, I ordered a pair to try out.
The next Saturday, Dan invited me out to dinner and to a play that I had really been wanting to go see. It seemed like a very appropriate opportunity to try out my new purchase, especially because I sometimes have trouble staying completely dry for an entire movie or show. Over the new panties I wore some fairly tight faded blue jeans, which I knew from past experienced turned fairly dark when wet. It was great to be able to wear them for once without concern about leaks showing up.
At dinner I started with just water, and I had intended to stick to just water. However, after ordering my pepper-encrusted steak with sautéed onions, the waiter recommended we pair our meal with one of their in-house vintage wines. I was going to decline (really), but Dan said it sounded great to him. Sometimes it's hard to say no... so I got a glass as well. Normally I would never drink before any situation where I wouldn't have immediate access to a bathroom because alcohol tends to aggravate my OAB, but confidence in my new panties made me feel that I had a little extra wiggle room this evening.
Dinner was delicious, but the service was a bit slow. By the time we finished eating we were way behind schedule. As we waited for the check, Dan looked up walking directions on his phone and found that if we left immediately we could get there with about 5 minutes to spare. This was the type of show where if you were late, you didn't get in - it said so in bold text right on the ticket.
I was starting to feel the need to pee at this point and under normal circumstances would have started looking for a bathroom, but I was caught up worrying about whether we could get to the theatre in time. For the next couple minutes we sat in tense silence, anxiously looking around for our waiter.
Finally, Dan told me he was going to get up and go look for the waiter. This was pretty unusual behavior for Dan, but we both realized how little time we had to waste. I opened my mouth to tell Dan I was going to run to the restroom while he tracked down the bill, but before I could speak the waiter appeared next to our table, set down the bill, and wished us a good evening. In less than 30 seconds, Dan had paid in cash (also pretty unusual), and we were out the door and rushing down the street.
The sidewalks were crowded with people going out to enjoy their Saturday evening, but we set a rapid pace despite the congestion. Google Maps told us we would be late, but of course it assumed we would be walking at a normal pace. I nervously checked the time on my phone every two minutes, wondering first whether we would make it on time at all, and second whether there was any chance of us making it with enough time for me to use the bathroom before the show. Fortunately, we made good time and stepped through the front door and into the lobby with a couple minutes to spare.
The play we were going to see that night was at one of the few theatres in the city I hadn't been to before. The theatre building was an unusual and somewhat awkward shape, although I have to give props to the architects for managing to squeeze a building of any sort into the V-shaped lot at the corner of two streets that met at a 45 degree angle. The pie-slice-shaped building had its entrance and lobby at the tip of the V.
Immediately upon entering, I looked around for the bathroom, as I had reached the point where I would normally have stopped whatever I was doing and gone to pee. I had no trouble spotting it, but there was also already a woman standing next to the door waiting to use it. I only would have had time to use the bathroom had it been vacant, but even a one-person line meant someone was already inside. Cycling three of us through the bathroom before the show started wasn't going to happen, so I didn't even bother mentioning it to Dan.
