Consider me Miles Davis

Thanksgiving 2012
So there I was, the lone blanco among a sea of Persians or brown people as they'd call themselves. The minority who only knew one tongue and felt out of place as they spit farsi back and forth. So what did I do? I took to the Kirkland Signature bottle of tequila, mixed it w/ some fresca and made due as a start. Beers followed. The ethanol loosened the nerves and I was having an awesome time. Everyone was super nice and welcoming, I did seem like some sort of specimen though, answering question after question.
"Why'd you move here? Where'd you go to school? How'd you get such a full head of hear (was seriously asked)? How do you know Nika? Did you go to Western?"
Combating the bombardment of inquiries, I suddenly felt the urge...oooo that urge that I forever will link to a torturous car ride from hell. My bladder was full and I had to go. So, rather than sit and squeeze my shib like a little kid (like I normally do) I located the lavatory and jetted. 'Uhhh one sec, I gotta go to the bathroom..."
As with anytime you get closer to the pot, your body subconsciously knows somehow and loosens your control of the bladder...unbutton, unzip, HURRY, pull pants dowwww...PISSSSSSSS...shiiiiiiii. I didn't get it out in time, but I think the lag time from start to in bowl was short. I finished. Relief...ahhhhh. Now to examine the damage, did I just pee on the edge of my pants a little? Not on my hand. Hmm? I look down one last time. FUCK. There it was...
As if a waterfull had thrown itself down the inseam of my leg, a dark trail on my slate gray chinos ran from top to bottom. How the? What?....FUCK. 
O.K....dont panic, dont panic. FUCK THAT, how can I not panic!?
I frantically unravelled the toilet paper and blotted away...c'mon, c'monnnnnnn. Nothin. Shiz.
Tick, tock the time passed and the crew was waiting right outside the bathroom door for me before we headed upstairs to chowtown. Think! Think! (Lightbulb over head!) 'I have another pair of khakis in the car...same color too!' What greater diety planted the seed in my head to bring an extra pair of pants and the same color no less? Thanks for the divine intervention. Actually, I'll chalk it up to my being prepared for any party problem that could've arisen.
Now, onto my escape route...how am I going to....SHUT THE FRONT DOOR...there's a door in this bathroom directly to the outside? CHINGGGG CHINGGGGGGG
OK, I just need to bolt past this slide glass door and hope they dont see me. Open, close, SPRINT..'no way they saw me...I think?...they probably saw me...oh well.'
HURRY HURRY, pants off, pants on...fist pump to self. *Pound it* Yeeeee!
Back to the screen door, BOLT..'did they see...whatever...'
I took a deep breathe and entered the party again. Did they know? Maybe they thought I was weird for sprinting back and forth past the door, but they definitely didn't know why.

If only peeing your pants really was cool...