Can You Count the Consonants in Incontinent?

I lost a battle tonight. There I sat, my jaw locked, muscles taut with strain, beads of sweat slowly working their way down my brow...and suddenly and quite unceremoniously I raised the white flag of surrender. Tonight, for the first time in my admittedly shaky memory, I left a film to use the restroom.

I tried, I really did. Trying to will it away seemed near impossible while trying to remain engrossed in the film and inflicting pain in other regions of my body seem equally as fruitless. Even the old standby, crossing my legs in the most feminine way possible for those of my ilk, backfired. By the time wetting myself in public seemed a very real possibility, the numbness in my leg had reached critical mass. I frantically hobbled for the bathroom, initiated the evacuation, and hurried back. Well, not hurried exactly. Its not easy to run with that infamous 'pins and needles' pain shooting up your legs. I'm guessing it looked a bit like a crippled crackhead frantically trying to run down his next score.

I'm sure it was inevitable but I wish my bladder would have chosen a different film. Through "Monster In-Law, the most recent "Punisher" installment, "Marly and Me" and countless others I dripped not a drop. But 3/4's of the way through "Wolverine" and the 3 espresso and creams, two cans of Coke, several cups of cereal milk and a ginormous theater Coke collectively browbeat me into submission. Luckliy my grief was assuaged with a free movie pass.* Next time I'm coming for blood, catheter in tow...

*In recompense for accidentally subjecting us to the first 3 minutes of "April Showers", the theater was kind enough to provide us all with one free movie pass. I suspect it was purely an accident, yet I can't help but wonder if it was deliberate. Had some douche bag suggested I 'show my tits', delaying the feature would have been the least of his concerns.