I woke up late. I had only a few minutes to get to work. And my bladder was ready to splode!
I dashed down the stairs to the bathroom, but it was locked. Roy was showering. I decided to go in the back yard. No good; we don't have one. The front yard wouldn't do, either, since it was wide daylight. I had only one option. This story is not for the weak or faint of heart.
I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cup. We're talking a pretty big 16 oz. or so tumbler here. I ran back to my bedroom. I was in a lot of pain. I started to fill the cup. Then I finished filling it! What to do!? I couldn't very well run back to the kitchen! Then I noticed an identical cup on Gravy's desk. I snatched it. Soon it was half-way full (or half empty?) and I was all the way not full. Roy was still taking his saccharine time in the shower, so I started getting ready for work.
I ran around like like a pickpocket at the Worlds' Fair, grabbing my apron, my shoes, my clothes, my nametag, my order book, my glasses.... Crap! My glasses were in the bathroom, where Roy was STILL showering! It was approaching that fatal minute when I would be late for work if I didn't leave right then, so I stepped out into the street blindly and ran to the restaurant.
After I'd been there for a few hours, I remembered those two lone cups of urine, sitting heavily upon Gravy's desk. Dum dum dum dum.
After work, I rushed home, and was delighted to find that he wasn't home yet. I looked in our room, and the cups were still sitting there on Gravy's desk. I grabbed them both, sneaked into the bathroom, and started to dump them into the toilet. It was only at that moment that I realized that something was amiss. The cups had both been marked in permanent marker with my name, the date, the word "urine," and a line to show how full they were. I guess Gravy HAD been home. Merry Christmas, buddy!