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  • Writer's pictureDillan Taylor

Peeing my pants in a Sam’s Club.

Here are two stories about Life:

1) Life loves you.

This weekend, I drove down a major road to get to my buddy’s house. It’s flooded with stoplights. I made every single one.

When I got into his town, I ran into the liquor store to grab a bottle of wine. The dude there always cards me and never smiles.

He rang me up, didn’t card me, and gave me a polite nod as I thanked him and left.

2) Life hates you.

In February, I rushed into my car to drive to work one morning. It was freezing and my heat was broken. Three minutes in, I had to pee.

Logic would have had me pull into a gas station or a Wendy’s. But I was already running late, so I gritted my teeth and declared I would be fine. I was 40 minutes away.

Halfway in, I’m squirming, making faces and cursing at Gods I don’t believe in. I kept my focus on whatever Post Malone was singing about. Then I got a call from my supervisor.

He told me that I’m going to a different store. Fuck.

I put the new address in my GPS. It added 22 minutes to my drive.

I’m gonna fucking pee my pants, I thought.

Being on the highway, I’d have to take an exit and be 20 or 30 minutes late to a job I was new to. So I fought with my bladder until I made it to the store. I was almost crying.

I was so distracted by my bladder that I didn’t notice my car was on empty until I parked. The light was flashing at me. I swept through my bag as quickly as I could, only to find out that I had left my wallet at home. I jumped out of the car.

Alternating between jogging and speed walking, I made it into the store, and had the most relieving pee I’ve ever had. It was like exorcising a demon. I think I groaned a little.


In one of these stories, it felt like Life was holding all the doors open for me. I had a guardian angel. God was fist-bumping me and giving me a massage.

In the other, it felt like Life was holding me down and spitting in my mouth.

People say, “Everything happens for a reason.”

That’s nonsense. Everything just happens.

Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it’s fucking brutal.

Whatever the case, all you can do is take it on the chin and adjust accordingly.

Appreciate the good. Maneuver through the bad.

That way, you won’t piss your pants in a Sam’s Club parking lot.


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