Port-o-potty drama

Everyone who knows me knows that I am prone to accidents. These accidents usually involve what I like to call "the weak ankle". I broke my ankle about 4 years ago, and ever since, I have trouble walking in heels, therefore I bust my ass on a regular basis when we go out. It happens so frequently that my friends don't even bat an eye or even try to help me up anymore... they know I can handle getting myself upright again. Anyway, I have an injury from this past weekend that had nothing to do whatsoever with the weak ankle. It started off innocently, the boyfriend (BF), his best friend (BF's BFF), and I went to watch the BF's college rugby team play a game. Of course we had to drink beer, because there's no point in being around ruggers without drinking beer. Who cares that it was 1:30 in the afternoon?? Saturday is a rugby day, as they like to say. But I digress...

So since there was quite a bit of beer consumption, along with that comes the full bladder. Which I never think of until it's to the point where I'm doing the pee pee dance and looking around for a tree to crouch behind. (I'm a classy gal, by the way) Unfortunately, all the trees were within a 15 foot radius of people, and the brush wasn't thick enough to hide me. The only other option was the port-a-potty, which I will do anything NOT to go in since the unfortunate incident backstage at a Pat Green concert where I was so sloshed that I fell back on the seat, mid-pee. *Shudder*

So there I was, full bladder and legs crossed, swaying (you know this pose), and finally I decide to just do it. I can handle this, I learned my lesson, never lose focus in the port-o-potty, concentrate, and you won't fall. All ladies know the hovering position, but in order to get out of the plastic toilet with no urine on you, you have to master the hover/hold pants away from seat/don't touch the walls technique. It's very tricky, but I had it down. And was doing quite well, I may add. So this was about a two minute pee (the amount of about a 6 pack, ok?), and about halfway through I hear BOOM BOOM and the freaking port-o-potty JERKS TO A 45 DEGREE ANGLE. I thought the Japs were bombing Pearl Harbor all over again. In the midst of me trying to figure out what the eff was going on, I lost my balance and hit the side of the wall, therefore letting go of my pants, and my feet shifted, therefore moving the pee stream about six inches forward. To where I was peeing on the floor. Close to my shoes. On my pants. Turns out my BF's shit for brains best friend decided it would be way funny to take a running start and drop kick the port-o-potty while I was in it. I could hear the laughter as I had to cut off the pee stream and button my piss-splattered pants, and charged out of the door like a bull running in Pampalona. BF and BF's BFF were doubled over in the car laughing, so I took my pee covered hands and ran them over BF's BFF's face and told him he had cooties. I'm really mature.

So, in the midst of this I don't notice the gash on my arm streaming blood until about 10 min later. I got an open sore injury in the most unsanitary place on earth, next to a sewage ditch. Tits McGee says I probably will end up with a staph infection. Awesome.