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.