The story of my day: woke up at 6:30 to get out the door in time to make it to the fields for morning softball. Lost two softball games; tough situation with two key players not playing today, but we did our best. Went home. Showered and changed clothes. Watched the end of the Phillies game while checking e-mail, surfing the Web, etc. Switched over to one of the MTV/VH1 channels that was playing nonstop Michael Jackson videos. Fell asleep for a half-hour.
Headed downtown for the softball Bar Of The Week. BOTW sucked -- the bar was virtually empty. Where is the support for a league sponsor? The "free buffet" was bereft of food, except for a bowl of pasta salad and what looked like potato salad -- two trays sitting over those little Sterno cans were empty; presumably they decided not to put out food until people arrived, which never happened. Drank three 23-oz. glasses of beer, so equivalent to about 4.5 sixteen-ounce bottles. Had a nice buzz, which would make this my first alcohol-enhanced post on this blog, except I don't really feel it now (though it caused me to laugh hysterically at the Simpsons rerun I DVR'd and watched when I got home).
After two hours of feeling sorry for the bartender who was earning very little in tips this day, I finally left but without stopping in a restroom first. Got on the "el" train to head home and really needed to pee. Arrived at the terminal, where I transfer to a bus to get home. The terminal has restrooms but also has signs saying they are closed from 8 pm to 4 am. On this night, though, the restrooms were still open at 9:30 pm -- hence, the first part of the title of this post.
After making room in my bladder I went to the newsstand and bought a diet soda. On the bus home, bored, I was fiddling with the empty soda bottle, including opening and closing the lid. I then looked down and saw that a small amount of soda had still been in the bottle, and it spilled out, right onto the front of my pants -- hence, the second part of the title of this post.
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