Tuesday, October 2, 2012

How I accidentally Instagrammed my cooch

I get an e-mail from Twitter titled "Because you have more to show". Am I to assume Twitter is encouraging me to post photos of myself scantily clad, in provocative positions?

I mean, I'm no Demi Moore in a bikini in my bathroom, desperately trying to hold on to my failing marriage by proving how hot I am via Twit Pic, but I might gain more followers. Ok Twitter, you're on. I might crash your site. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Having to pee can kinda ruin a spa appointment. I was recently traveling on business and had a few hours of downtime so I scheduled an overpriced facial at the hotel where we were staying. Once our meeting concluded for the day, I was heading back to my room when a couple colleagues sitting at the bar spotted me and called me over. Come over here! Have a drink! I had about an hour and a half to kill before my spa rendez-vous.

Two cosmos later, I'm racing to the spa to get there on time. I'm a little tipsy due to the alcohol and general fatigue but figured this will just add to my relaxation. I'd gone to pee twice since arriving at the spa, before my appointment even began. On occasion, I can drink numerous cosmos without consequence. This was not one of those times.

About 15 minutes into my appointment, I realize I have to piss like a race horse. But I don't want to interrupt. I'm in some kind of spa tunic, under covers with a wet towel on my face. I don't want to piss off the spa lady. So I suck it up and wait it out.

The facial felt quite nice but let's face it, I was distracted by my bulging bladder. F*ck. After what felt like an eternity, the treatment mercifully came to an end. I headed for the lavatory. Ahhhhh....... sweet relief. I did feel incredibly relaxed and my face had a certain glow. So it wasn't a total loss. But for that much money, I really wanted to be present, you know? Damn those cosmos, they sure were tasty.

I must have been inebriated because I forgot to leave a tip. How gauche. I only thought of it hours later, in a haze of red wine and port, and figured by then, it was too late. I can never show my face there again.

Best quote ever: "This party is so lame, it makes me want to cut myself again."

Like I would ever Instagram my cooch, even accidentally. What is wrong with you people?

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