The Pee Church, or Sprinting in Red Heels

I wrote about a theatrical wardrobe malfunction and about getting stuck in Dave’s bathroom. Clothing and urination and my good-girl days. Then I remembered what happened when that girl grew up and was released into the wild.

(Seriously? Not much happened. I’m still a pretty good girl, and also? Hi Mom!)

Around the Millenium, I lived in near Boston, and two of my best girlfriends lived about a half mile away. Many were the nights of carousing, and if we were lucky catching the Red Line back as far as our stop. A cab from the T station, or better yet the bus, was always cheaper.

That night we caught the Red Line, and decided we’d use the mile walk from the station to their apartment to sober up. I would crash on their couch, and head home the half mile to my apartment in the morning.

Back in those days public restrooms on the T were rare and foul. After last call, the square buttoned up tight, so if a girl needed to pee, she was right out of luck.

“Just use the Pee Church,” my friend suggested, pointing to a gray stone church about a block away, ringed with hedges, thickly shadowed and inky green in the darkness.

“They don’t lock it?” I asked naïvely.

“No. Yes, they do. Just pee behind the hedge. My University friends used to do it all the time. It’s a long walk home if you don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“Suit yourself.”

I kept walking, bladder pressing on my thoughts. Halfway there the urge was desperate, and cover was scarce. I had given up the option to squat when I passed the Pee Church.

I soldiered on up the hill, my bladder insistent with the knowledge that we were getting incrementally closer to a toilet.

With a tenth of a mile left, I’d had it. I was still tipsy, I had to go, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I demanded the keys from my friends, and took off.

I ran, full tilt, in four-inch platform peeptoe sandals along the sidewalk until I got to their place, unlocked the door with shaking hands, and sprinted down the hallway to the bathroom.

I made it, but I didn’t close the front door.

There is a place called the Pee Church, despite my lack of reverence I can’t do that, and I can sprint in heels under the right circumstances. Lessons learned.

Write a post that either starts or ends with the words “Lesson learned.” Word limit: 400 words.


18 responses to “The Pee Church, or Sprinting in Red Heels

  1. OMG! Three or four of my closest friends peed behind a Boston church the night of my bachelorette party. I wonder if it’s the same one!

  2. Wow. Such control! Not me. I would’ve given in, done the deed and confessed my sins later – though in college, I wasn’t really adhering to much of the Catholic doctrine I grew up with.

    Sprinting in heels? You go, girl! Now that’s a skill…

  3. “lesson learned” sounds like “mischief managed” to me. perhaps i really am brainwashed.

  4. I like Marian’s comment.

    Funny, though. I like ti when I get to peer behind the Cameron curtain.

  5. Note to Lance: it appears the curtain wasn’t pulled on this one!

    LOVE this story. I recall many nights of shaking hand and doors left open.
    But you running in heels? Would have made me pee my pants.

    You’re welcome

  6. I’m not easily shocked,but really, didn’t your mother tell you that you risk breaking an ankle or two if you run in 4 inch heels?

  7. I would have peed at the Pee Church, I hate the feeling of having to go, I have a similar story except I was in Baltimore with John, middle of the day, buzzed and on the boat from Fell’s point back to the Inner Harbor. BAD TIMES man. 😉

    Love love love those shoes and good for you for holding it. You are a master of the potty!

  8. Oh you! I love the Hi Mom, and the restraint, the run in heels. Go you! {I would have never ever been able to pull this off!}

    This line -bladder pressing on my thoughts- is perfection.

  9. oh how many times have I sprinted to pee. so many. but not very many times in heels. you are awesome. and my new peero.get it? hero? peero? no? sigh.

  10. I like how you learned several lessons – ha! And go you for running in heels! Like “Annie” says, when you gotta go, you gotta go!

  11. Running in heels and making it to the toilet, I am impressed!! I don’t think I could pee outside a church either, at least not sober enough to acknowlegde it.

  12. This:

    Back in those days public restrooms on the T were rare and foul.

    It says so very much without lots of details that might make one vomit 🙂

    And those are some seriously fabulous shoes…

  13. Is there anything worse than having to pee with no place to go? Of course, I might have opted for the pee church…maybe. Well, I don’t know, public urination is never a really great thing. Plus, it’s a church. So yeah. Mad props for running in heels with a full bladder!

  14. I would have been the one who knew about the pee church. Because I would have been all over the public urination in the good ol’ days.

    I’m a classy broad.

  15. I have never been able to do that either! I will always wait for plumbing.

  16. You know it’s urgent when you don’t close the front door. I’ve been there myself-and when the porcelain god comes into view-it’s almost a religious experience!

  17. There is a pee grange hall in my hometown 🙂 Love.

  18. Argh, I’ve had problems before too trying to withstand the pain of squatting and then just not being able to relax it out. When camping. Not in a pee church. 🙂

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