Wee Bladder Club

So, do you have a wee bladder? Or a camel bladder that can go hours and hours and hours? My sister-in-law (who now wants to be called Cinnamon instead of JuJuBeez) is a founding member, president of the Wee Bladder Club. Hell, she is Queen and Empress of the club. When we would drive to Vegas from Temecula she would be dying by the time we hit Victorville doing the sitting in the car pee pee dance. For a year or two I reluctantly joined her club. All I had to do was think about taking a leak and off I would go. Thankfully, this affliction is much improved.

I went to a Padres came last Saturday, Padres vs Giants. Truthfully, I am not a baseball fan but if I were it would probably be the Dodgers. Sorry. Killdozer will probably kill me for that. The new Petco stadium was a blast. We left early so we could eat before the game started and not have to worry about the crowds. We parked in the convention center parking lot, paid our $8 and walked across the street, across the trolley tracks, and went to the Tin Fish Restaurant. I had some awesome beer and fish and chips.

The place was packed with Padres fans. It was a sea of blue. They had a guy singing crazy Irish songs and trying to get the crowd excited. Message to fellow geezers. Lighten up. We sat outside on the patio. I could see the entrance to the Gas Lamp and could people watch like mad. Unfortunately, beer goes through me like nobody's business, so I had to fight my way through the crowd to the bathroom. Of course, I was expecting a line. They have one potty for men and one potty for women. When I get there, there is a line but the line had men in it and one woman. Okay, what the heck. I get behind the woman and wait. It is one line but the men are waiting for their bathroom. A lady comes out of the women's restroom and the lady ahead of me goes in. The men are starting to mutter. Another lady shows up behind me and we giggle about how the men are having to wait and they start laughing and complaining about how that never happens. At this point, only one man has gone in. It's my turn and I go in, do my thing, and leave and the men are still waiting. Three women to one man ratio. I laugh and ask them how it feels to have to wait. One man is truly doing the bladder full of beer dance and starting to sweat.

The Padres won that night and I got a great t-shirt. And I still want to know if the 2 men who sat next to us were gay or not. The one was kinda of yummy. Not that I did that well at flirting. Sigh. Any tips and lessons would be welcome. My 19-year-old thinks it is hysterical that I have no clue how to flirt. I'm not sure how to tell her that I met her dad, my ex, at a New Year's Eve party at age 16, we were making out within hours, and we eventually got married. I'm pretty sure at over age 50 that making out on the first date is against the rules.

Darn. Coffee is kicking in.