Pat and her Guitar

The favorite teen hangout that summer (1957) was a 10–acre pond that had been enhanced with a sandy beach and a platform with an Olympic style diving board. There were rowboats for rent and there was a concession stand. Even though the lake was far away from her home Pat spent many of her spare hours there in the summer of her eighteenth year (1957).
Pat was by now an accomplished musician having mastered the guitar and she carried her guitar everywhere she went. She didn’t swim that much so her main reason for visiting the lake was to be with her friends and entertain them with her guitar playing. She usually didn’t wear a swimsuit to the lake, as she didn’t plan to swim. Trips to the lake for Pat required only her newest pair of jeans and a simple blouse. It was a usual thing to see Pat sitting on the beach in rather tight side–zipped jeans with patch pockets, a white blouse, white anklets and sneakers, and, of course, her trusty guitar.
One day during that summer when Pat had spent most of her day serenading her friends she gathered her belongings at around 2:00 PM, and made her way to the bus stop about a half mile away to get her first bus for home. She would have to transfer to another bus to get within a block or two of her home. As Pat walked up that hill for a half mile she began to realize that she should have attended the restroom before leaving the lake. As a matter of fact she had warning signals of a full bladder before she decided to leave the beach and her friends. By the time Pat got to the bus stop she was desperate to pee. But, there was nowhere to go, so she sucked it up and stood at the bus stop wondering why the bus was so late.
She didn’t realize that she had just missed the bus and would have to wait another thirty minutes for the next one. She set her guitar case and tote bag on the ground at her feet and began a long struggle with a full bladder. Pat wasn’t too sophisticated about holding her pee so she didn’t know any tricks to assuage her desperation. She only knew that if she didn’t get relief soon she was going to humiliate herself by wetting her pants. She was already squirming and clamping her legs tightly together.
But, since she was out in public she didn’t dare grab her crotch or cross her legs as such an action would tell the public that she was on the verge of wetting herself. Foregoing these actions severely curtailed the length of time she could hold her pee. In short, Pat had a twenty–five minute wait for the bus and a fifteen–minute holding limit. The pressure on her bladder built to such a proportion that she had to let some pee escape. Pat peed her pants for just a few seconds but it was enough to show a dark patch around her crotch to halfway to her knees. As she looked down she thought it didn’t look too bad.
The fact that the sun was high and her jeans were new gave her a false illusion that her accident didn’t show. This notion was exploded when two preteen boys riding bikes past her muttered out loud, “Hey that girl has pissed herself– hey girl, how come you wet your pants?” It was then that Pat picked up her guitar case and tote bag and held them in front of her thus concealing her accident. Finally her bus arrived and she boarded with some difficulty as she continued to try to conceal her accident.
Pat sat down near the rear door and squirmed and fidgeted for the entire ride as she was once again in dire straits for a pee. She managed to hold on till the bus made its stop at her transfer point in the downtown area. When Pat left the bus she was once again bursting for a pee. She was also trying to keep her guitar and tote bag in front of her to conceal the fact that she had already wet her pants, even though the wetness was now just dampness. Every time she stole a glance at her crotch she saw a continuing dark patch that telegraphed the fact she had wet herself.
Now she was once again waiting on a bus, the exact situation she had been in when she wet herself before. And, she was even more desperate to use a bathroom as she was before. She had already humiliated herself in front of countless persons and peers and now she was on the verge of doing it again. Pat was extremely desperate. She bent over at the waist and crossed her legs tightly. She stood this way for about five minutes when she noted her second bus approaching. Right before the bus arrived she completely lost control of her bladder. She grasped her guitar and tote bag and held them before her while she flooded her jeans, socks and shoes. This time Pat completely voided her bladder and there were no means whereby she could conceal this fact.
Her jeans were soaked, and they were soaked all over. The guitar and tote bag no longer covered her wet jeans. She even felt dampness in her rear as the wetting spread all over her. She boarded the next bus and gave the driver her transfer noticing how he looked at her. She walked straddle legged to a seat in the rear of the bus while noticing how everyone looked at her. When she sat down she heard an audible squish and felt wetness spread all over her backside. Pat had thoroughly peed herself and it was obvious to anyone who shared a bus with her that day. By now, Pat was wondering what more she must endure.
The half block she had to walk from the bus stop to her home was done with great trepidation. Her head was bowed and there were tears in her eyes. She was still walking straddle legged as she couldn’t stand the feel of her wet jeans on her legs. When she got home her father was on the porch and all he could say was “What the hell have you done to yourself?”
Pat melted into a sobbing heap on her front porch and her daddy gathered her up and carried her up to her room. He put her down on her bed letting her wet the bed clothing and said quietly “Just get yourself cleaned up and ready for supper and no one will ever know what happened. It will be our secret.” Pat was ever grateful for the father she had.
DaveJ