I was going to tell a story about a “Strange Date” that I once had when I was a teenager.
I typed it up, edited it, and then decided to go for a drive and think about it before posting it.
Going for a drive would also allow me to finish listening to this book that I’m listening to on Audible. —two birds, one stone.
So, I attached my 2000 cc urine bag to my Urostomy and went out to my truck. The urine bag has a 6-foot hose. It’s so long that I have to hold the hose with my hand, or it’ll drag the ground.
I got in my truck, put my Pee Bag on the floorboard, and got the book playing on Audible through my Radio using the Bluetooth Connection.
—away I went.
Earlier it rained here. The roads are soaked, the sky is cloudy, and no cars are out. It felt eerie as I drove the back roads.
I noticed that I needed Gas and decided to stop and fill up while I was out, so I aimed my truck toward the gas station.
While driving, I thought back on that “date” that I had written about.
“Strange” is the only word to describe it.
I pull into the gas station.
Nobody is at the station. The inside is closed, but they leave the pumps on during the night for people like me. So I pull next to pump one and turn my vehicle off. I then push the button that opens my gas tank, and I proceed to get out of my truck when I’m immediately met with the Cement. I had fallen out of my vehicle.
“Crap! I forgot to unhook the Pee bag! Again!” I yelled.
It actually happens all the time.
I stand up, yank my Pee Bag out of the vehicle and walk to the pump.
I put my Debit Card into the card reader and typed in my secret code.
It immediately says, “Declined.”
“What?” I ask myself.
Then, it hit me; I had fooled around with a feature on my Banks website called “Lock It,” and I had “Locked” my cards from being used.
“Well, now I know it works,” I thought.
I then go back to the Cab of my vehicle, grab my phone, and open my Banks App. I unlocked my Debit Card.
This time it takes my card.
After filling up with over 70 Bucks worth of Gas, I hop back in my vehicle and head home.
“It’d be weird if she also had Spina Bifida and wore a Diaper, like me,” I thought to myself while thinking back on that “Date.”
—Not to confuse you. I don’t wear a Diaper anymore. I did at one time. Now I have my Colostomy and Urostomy.—
I get home and decide to go in and post the story about the “Strange Date.”
I hop out of my truck, and immediately I’m met with Cement.
I’ll post the other story another day.
Good Night Everybody.
