Can I go to the bathroom?

Remember back in elementary school, and sometimes even high school, when you had to ask the teacher if you could go to the bathroom? Now that I think back on those times, I realize how wonderful it is to be an adult. I mean, having to ask if you can go to the bathroom? A basic bodily function? I think that's wrong. I should share a story I experienced in high school concerning this.

I was in class, and the teacher was lecturing. This was a history class. She was known for being a jerk. I suddenly felt sick, and I needed to go rather badly. I raised my hand and asked if I could go. She had the audacity to say no. Here I was, about to shit in my pants, and the teacher was telling me I couldn't go! so of course, I had no choice, and I ran out of the room anyway, eventually making it to the restroom so I could do my thing. Luckily I made it on time.

Anyway, when I returned to class, she bitched me out for disobeying her. She seemed to refuse to understand that I would have made quite a mess if I hadn't. There was no punishment, but she threatened that there would be next time. Luckily, there was no next time. Kids, if you really gotta go, go. Don't let authority figures that are full of themselves run your life. }:)

I'm sitting in Driver's Ed, my last class of the day. We're watching Ford-produced videos from 1986 about driver's ed students, always the same bad acting, same hair band instrumental music in the background, and boyfriends of driver's ed students who have a bad attitude towards the road. I drank an entire bottle of Wisdom Elixir SoBe before class, and I noticed that I really need to use the bathroom. I get to that point where I think that if I fidget around a lot or try to fall asleep, the destiny of really having to urinate will become untainable. I cross my legs and start kicking the left one. It looks like I'm trying to masturbate. I stop that. I put my head down between my arms to take a nap, but my eyes are pointed straight at a bottle of water sitting on a desk. I realize that I have no choice but to ask the teacher if I may use the restroom. Hey, I'm a good kid. I don't smoke. I don't act up in class, so what is wrong with missing a couple of minutes of Cindy and Janet driving on the freeway?

Me: "Coach Gordon, may I use the restroom?"
Coach Gordon: "No you may not."

I scowl at him in what I think is an ultra-bitchy slut kind of look like I'm wearing leather pants and I just shook my ass at him in rebellion. I take my seat and begin another bout of wiggling around. Cindy and Mike are driving a Bronco around on the freeway. Cindy makes a pointer to Mike. Mike responds, "You just think you're smart because you're in that Driver Ed program!" By now, I want to climb inside the television, wrap my legs around Mike's neck and pee in his mouth, screaming, "You think it's funny pissing people off, well what's it feel like to be pissed on?!"

The video ends. My teacher runs into a long ramble about falling asleep at the wheel and how you should take frequent bathroom breaks to avoid this. He keeps darting his eyes over at me as he says bathroom and puts strong emphasis on that word. He's trying to drive me crazy. He sees my feet drumming into the floor, wanting to run out the door, only being more obedient that my mind.

30 minutes later, the bell rings. I put my feet into drive, and I accelerate the fuck out of there and to the bathroom where I progress to urinate for 2 minutes straight.