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I was in agony, absolute, total, agony.
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Around me were hundreds, if not thousands of people, all of us intent on being some
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of the first people to take a ride on Hagrid's Magical Creatures Motorbike Adventure at Universal's
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Islands of Adventure theme park.
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I'd seen the sneak preview video and it looked amazing, like no other ride I'd ever
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seen.
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There was no way I was going to drop out of that queue, but the pain….
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oh my God, the pain.
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I felt as if I was holding on to a rising balloon, and if I just held on a little longer,
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I could make it, but if my grip failed me, I would fall and die.
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That's just a metaphor, but in reality I really was on the verge of death.
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Let me explain.
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First of all, you should know that I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, not just a fan of the
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movies, but the books and everything else related to the magical teen and his band of
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extraordinary buddies.
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You're probably thinking that I'm just a kid, but you'd be wrong.
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I was a kid when the first movies came out, but as some guys on the mean streets sometimes
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say, “Once an addict, always an addict.”
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When I heard about the new ride in Orlando I got in touch with another guy I knew from
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the Harry Potter Fan Club Facebook page and we both agreed we'd try and get on the inaugural
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ride.
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The reason I picked him is because we both live in Florida, I'm in Tampa and he's
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in Jacksonville.
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We wouldn't have too far to travel, so the deal was made.
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The plan was to get a hotel close to the theme park and the next day wake up well before
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dawn and start queuing before the crowds came.
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As you guys all know, you can have the best intentions in the evening and when you get
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up in the morning you don't have the same amount of enthusiasm.
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We were sharing a room and when that alarm clock went off at 3 a.m. we weren't in the
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best of moods.
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Maybe those few beers the evening before had been a bad idea.
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Fortunately, the hotel had a 24-hour café and I sank two double espressos, followed
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by a bottle of water, followed by a mocha Frappuccino to go.
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My friend wasn't into coffee, he said it gave him anxiety, but I can tell you this,
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soon after I'd downed those espressos I was good to go.
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Since we knew we'd be standing in a queue for maybe a couple of hours we bought some
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stuff from the convenience store and put the food, water and soft drinks in our backpacks.
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What was surprising was the fact when we got to the park around 5 a.m. there was already
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a stream of people lining up at the entrance to the park, all of them there for Hagrid's
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Magical Creatures Motorbike Adventure.
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No kidding, we even met a guy who'd come all the way from England.
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The dude was dressed in a wizard's cape and written on it were the words, “Potty for
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Potter.”
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He had to explain to me that “potty” can mean crazy in the UK.
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The guy was kinda condescending about having to explain that to me, but I paid it no mind.
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This guy was potty, there was no doubt about that, flying over the Atlantic for a theme
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park ride.
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He told me he'd read in the media that the experience was one of a kind, and the park
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had spent $300 million on it.
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He said some of his countrymen travelled the world to watch their stupid football teams
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lose, so what he was doing wasn't all that crazy.
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“You mean soccer?”, I asked, genuinely.
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What did I know?
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“NO!”, he said, shaking his head in disdain, I mean football!.
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Jeez, I thought, I'm gonna have to spend the next few hours next to this guy and I've
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already upset him.
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After about an hour we saw more and more people join the queue.
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It was hard to say how many because it wrapped around the corner.
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In front of us I would guess there were about 300 to 400 people.
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The time was now about 7 am so there were only a couple of hours to wait before the
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park opened, but the thing was, I needed a pee.
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I'd only had those small espressos and had barely touched my mocha Frappuccino, but I
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still felt those first pangs of pee pain.
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You know, the part where you're not quite sure that if you just hit the release button
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for a second if something will come out.
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At nine am we were allowed inside the park and to my surprise no one tried to jump the
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queue.
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Every single person was directed towards the ride, with some of us now inside the theme
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park and from what I could see, a lot of others still queueing on the outside.
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That made me feel quite proud that we'd made the decision to wake up so early.
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The sun was now out and I was in a bit of a predicament.
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I still needed that pee, well, I needed it more, but I was also thirsty.
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Those beers the night before really had been a bad idea.
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I decided I would just take a sip of some Coca-Cola rather than glug down water.
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I'd later find out that this decision was a bad one, because sweet, soft drinks, like
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the coffees I'd drunk, are what you call diuretics.
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What are they, you might wonder.
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Well, the answer is they promote something called diuresis.
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Ok, so you're still in the dark about this.
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The simple answer is they make you pee.... pee more than say, water.
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Caffeine is like the king of diuretics, and I'd just had it in coffee and Coke.
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I was really holding that pee in around the 10 am mark, about 5 hours into our queuing.
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There were some helpful distractions, such as videos playing with some amusing words
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from Hagrid, or pictures of the ride itself and the pretty amazing Forbidden Forest that
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had been created.
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Still, I was now in pretty serious pain.
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At around the six-hour point I was standing cross-legged and slightly bent over.
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This seemed to ease the pain, as if I was squeezing the tubes where the urine traveled
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to meet its final destination.
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What I would later find out after a bit of research was that at this point I was in danger
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of weakening my bladder muscles, something which could harm my bladder for the rest of
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my life.
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In hindsight, this was the least of my worries.
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Surely, we were close to getting on the ride, I hoped, and I just stood there looking like
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a man who was slightly demented or had recently been in an accident.
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My buddy had done the right thing and had just been taking small sips of that water,
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but to be honest, in his excitement I don't really think he was that concerned about my
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predicament.
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I'd also later find out that the parts of my body that were helping me keep in this
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pee, now probably a tsunami waiting to happen, are called urethral cylindrical sphincters.
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These are great when you tighten them for a short while, such as when you don't want
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a puddle of pee beneath you on a busy bus, but they are brakes, not doors, so they can
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be worn out.
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At the seven hour mark I couldn't overstate how much agony I was in.
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I knew we were close to getting on the ride, so I held on for dear life.
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That British guy heard me telling my buddy that I thought I was about to pee myself.
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My friend laughed, but I can tell you, it wasn't funny to me.
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My buddy said that if it was that bad just go find a bathroom and he'd hold my spot
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in the queue.
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You won't believe what happened next.
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That British guy overheard this and said in no uncertain terms that if I left the queue
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I'd have to start from the back.
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He said he also needed a pee, but in Britain, he said, there's a thing called queuing
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etiquette.
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I think this guy thought he was special just because Harry Potter is British.
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That, or he was just a xenophobic snob.
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I can recall his exact words.
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He said, “The reason we have queuing etiquette is because if we didn't there would be chaos.”
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“Queuing chaos doesn't work,” he said, and then went on about a time in the past
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he'd had difficulty buying a train ticket in India and how he'd almost gotten into
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a fight at a buffet where hordes of hungry Chinese people fought over shrimp.
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He said he wasn't picking on me, only that if order broke down then order would cease
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to exist.
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“Formal and orderly queuing,” he said in a patronizing way, “is the mark of a
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civilised man.”
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What a total jerk.
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He told me that if I left the line he would make a complaint and say I had jumped the
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queue.
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What I really couldn't believe is that other people in the queue didn't get my back.
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I guess one less man in the queue was good for them, and so they just kept quiet.
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The words that went through my head were, “The milk of human kindness”, and then
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I wished I hadn't thought about milk.
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Gallons of it, pouring over pristine porcelain mountains.
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At that moment my urethral sphincters almost called it quits.
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I'll fill you in later, but I will tell you that I had already caused myself some
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damage.
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It was at about the nine-hour point that we were very close to the ride entrance.
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I'd almost made it, but the problem now was the excitement I felt almost made me lose
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concentration and loosen those muscles, and let all the urine flood out.
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I had to concentrate.
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Keep the door locked, I kept saying to myself.
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Everyone was laughing and joking, taking selfies and looking in awe at the ride we were about
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to go on.
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I was undoubtedly the only man in that queue who did not have a smile on his face.
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If anything, I grimaced, a kind of agonized grimace, like someone who's just won the
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lottery and then been told they only have a week to live.
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We finally got in the castle, but to be honest, I was in no mood for taking photos.
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I was hardly even aware at this point if I was actually holding a pee in, it was like
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I'd gone into survival mode.
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It felt like my urine had become a hardened prisoner and my entire body now was some kind
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of detainment unit.
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The ride itself consisted of Hagrid's motorcycle with a side cart next to it.
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I told my buddy that in the interest of me holding in this pee it might be best I take
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the bike and he the side cart.
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It was all about control, you see, I needed to feel in control.
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That British guy was right behind me on the other bike, something he'll regret to this
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day.
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At something like 50 mph we drove past Fluffy the three-headed dog, and other such things
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as Cornish pixies and a Centaur.
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I didn't really care, I just wanted the experience to be over as quickly as possible.
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This was turning out to be one of the most painful and pointless days of my life…and
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there would be consequences to come.
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I thought I had it under control, even on the biggest descents and through the sharp
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bends, but then there was a surprise drop and the heavens burst, the tsunami came, my
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bladder roared as its doors were kicked down by a violent torrent of urine.
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My pecker must have been flailing around like an out of control fire hose, hours of back-up
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urine gushing from its spout like a great yellow geyser.
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The pee was everywhere and it stunk.
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It was old pee, neglected pee, and when it ejected from me it spread far and wide.
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I looked behind me and saw that British guy wincing, looking utterly disgusted, his eyes
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glaring into mine.
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Was I embarrassed, you might ask.
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No, is the answer, I was relieved, incredibly relieved, and almost ecstatic that my British
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foe had tasted the vapors of an agony he had been an accomplice in creating.
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I know guys, maybe I shouldn't have felt so overjoyed that someone had to experience
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great wafts of urine vapor in their face.
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But you know what, I paid for it.
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I soon got my karma.
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When I finally got back to Tampa after a pretty awkward farewell with my Harry Potter fanboy
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buddy, I felt a stinging pain every time I went to the bathroom to pee.
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After seeing a doctor I was told I had a urinary tract infection.
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That could be cured he said, and told me he couldn't believe I'd done a 10 hour urine
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hold.
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If there are records, he said, I might have broken some.
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The bad news, though, was that he said the damage done could be irreversible.
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He told me that long-term bladder stretching could make it hard for me to pee in the future
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and one day if I kept doing this kind of thing I might have to put a catheter into my member
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and draw the urine out.
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On the other hand, all that stress on my bladder could lead to incontinence, so holding in
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even normal pees would be impossible.
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I had some blood checks and my kidneys were functioning normally, but he said when you
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do something as crazy as I did, kidney damage can occur as can the appearance of kidney
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stones.
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“Just don't make a habit of enduring those marathons,” he said.
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“A few minutes is fine, but holding on for hours isn't good for you at all.”
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The one thing that really scared me is when he told me that the bladder can actually burst
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when you hold in a pee as long as I did.
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He said it was very rare, but it had happened.
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When it does happen you can actually die.
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He told me not to worry, though, because the cases he'd heard about all happened to people
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who already had compromised bladders.
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He said, like what happened to me, before the bladder bursts people will just pee themselves.
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He said cases of healthy bladders just bursting are so rare that he doubted that could have
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happened to me, but in the few cases it has happened, urine leaked into the abdomen and
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when people didn't get straight to the emergency room they died.
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The punchline to this story is that I could have actually told one of the attendants at
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the park that I needed the bathroom and gotten the green light to go.
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He would have made sure I got right back into the queue, despite what that British guy might
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have had to say about that.
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We can think of one really suitable match for this story, a video that might put you
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off going to an amusement park ever again.
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You'll know what we mean after you've seen, “The Worst Amusement Park Ride Disasters.”