Are we there yet?

I was supposed to work tonight, but I've been sick, getting steadily sicker all week, until I woke up with a fever this morning. I really do get sick a lot. I put the blame entirely on my parents. And also the fact that I rarely eat any sort of vegetable. The worst part is, I really need to work, I am bored through my arse sitting at home, but I recognize that it's a little too dangerous to drive for 12 hours while one's head is clouded with snot and virus. On top of that, when I'm in the cab, I try to drink as little water as possible so that I don't have to waste time using the bathroom. This isn't the smartest thing to do even while healthy (many cab drivers have kidney problems from either holding it in or not drinking at all), but it's certainly much worse to do when sick. Anyway, I'm again digging into old experiences for this post. Alas, the following story has to do with peeing.

Sometime last week I picked up these two women on Jalan Pudu. When they told me they wanted to go to Mutiara Damansara, I was a little concerned. I already had to pee and this was going to be no short trip. I set out down the Penchala Link, figuring I'd be able to hold it at least until I dropped them off, but, of course, there was traffic. By the time we got into Jalan Kuching, I was starting to sweat. Driving became difficult. I was afraid I would have an accident in my jeans, and to prevent this, I began fantasizing about dropping the ladies off, pulling up to the closest parked cars I could find, and squatting in between them. The situation was so desperate, I no longer cared about things like privacy and safety and toilet paper. After directing me around the neighborhood for a while, the women finally told me to stop. But only one got out. The remaining woman told me I had to make another stop! Emergency! My bladder was threatening to spill over with exclamation points!

I pulled myself together while the second woman directed me to her house. But I began panicking again when she said things like, "Turn at the light." I was trying not to breathe, but was forced to unseal my lips to ask, "Turn to the left or the right?" "Oh, left." She kept doing that, telling me to just "turn," until we finally made it to her house. She paid me, tipped nicely, and said, "Do you want directions back?" I said, "No, actually, could you please tell me where I can find the closest public bathroom?" She paused for a second, I think realizing my state of emergency, and replied, "Do you want to come in?" Me: "Could I, really?" Her: "Yes, it's fine. I've been there. I know how it feels." I parked and locked the cab, and followed her into the house. She pointed me toward the bathroom and, while I was passing the kitchen, I saw a man sitting there. I didn't stop to say hi. When I entered the bathroom, it felt like the most glorious moment of my entire life. I nearly cried. And when I left, I couldn't thank the woman enough. This was certainly the most generous tip anyone could have given me at the time. The whole way back to the city, I was filled with gratitude, mainly for the fact that I didn't pee in my pants, but also for the reminder that sometimes humanity can, indeed, be humane.