Mike, Justin and I hit a couple of bars before the KU game Monday.
Justin’s bladder is the size of a shot glass, do we had to duck into The Eldridge Hotel for a bathroom break between bars.
The Eldridge is an ancient hotel, and its bathrooms are no exception. The men’s room had two stalls, no urinals. Some douche was talking on his cell phone while on the shitter, so we took turns with the remaining toilet.
By the time I entered the restroom, my bladder was at maximum PSI. I was annoyed at this guy talking on the can, so I unleashed my mightiest stream. I wanted the person on the other end of the phone to hear every ounce of my tinkle. I pushed as hard as I could. Luckily my bowels were in check, or I might have shat myself. I zipped up and smiled at a job well done.