Between a Fist and a Wet Place (Letting It Go In Public)
There’s a scene in Caddyshack, where a golfing bishop is so on fire with hole-in-ones that he can’t bring himself to take shelter during a storm.
A much less heroic version of that happened to me once in my preteen years, when I was playing Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out! at a FunTyme arcade. My family was there with another family, for miniature golf, batting cages, go karts, what have you. But I was in the arcade, because that’s how I rolled.
There were two sisters roughly around my age in the family we were there with. The elder of them was one of the early loves of my life, or so I saw it at the time; I’d have built her a monument out of the liquid gold I’d have melted into if she ever would have spared me a singular fleeting peck on the cheek.
I didn’t ever think that girls had cooties.
I was thankful that many boys in elementary school did, though, because competition was never my thing.
I loved romance straight out of the box, but that didn’t mean I was smooth.
But enough about girls. I was playing Punch-Out!
And I had to pee.
But you see, I was playing Punch-Out!
I had progressed further into the game than usual. In my memories, I was fighting Mike Tyson himself in the game’s final encounter. But I dunno, I might have made that up in some piss-poor attempt to justify what happened next.
My thought process was, “I can either abandon this game and go to the bathroom, or I can surrender all in my pants and win.”
There was really only one thing to do. Standing right there in public, I urinated.
Then, I got knocked out in Punch-Out!
A hard knock life, when you pee to win, but then you lose.
On the ride home (we carpooled with the other family), I imagined that no one knew about my ordeal. As if a full load of urine in the pants could ever be a covert operation.
No one mentioned it, so no one knew, right? Is that how it works?
But hey, no regrets. I knew what was important to me and I went after it.
Would I do it again? Nah. I don’t really like Punch-Out! (I wonder why)…
But I would absolutely pee my pants a thousand times over for the well-being, prosperity, peace, and harmony of every person reading this (and every person not reading this).
If I’d do it for a stupid videogame right before a ride home with my big crush…
Then hell yeah, I’d do it for you…
There’s a metaphor in here somewhere. Not necessarily talking about pee-pee pants anymore.
So, what am I talking about?
Well, that depends.
What do you need?
Originally published at Andrew L. Hicks.