Scholastic Saturdays: funny thing happened 

A long time ago in a land far, far, away….

there was a young girl, of dark hair and slight of build, faced with a terrible decision – elevator or stairs?

***earlier that afternoon***

A young girl had traveled against her will on an ordinary day to her father’s work. She could not recall the reason that brought her to that Adobe building in a Oasis in the desert, just that she did not wish to be there. 

For hours on end she attempted to entertain herself with the scant resources available to her. It was hard to stay out of mischief as the office supplies were beckoning to be used. 

At some point in the late afternoon she could no longer stay still as her bladder was so full that her bright pink slacks felt too tight and sitting was no longer an option. 

As she slowly, ever so slowly, made her way to her father’s side she noticed he was in deep conversation with a colleague. Because of the way she was raised she knew not to interrupt, despite her ever heavy bladder. 

It seemed like an eternity before she caught the eye of her father as he was known to be long winded and hyper focused while in dialogue. As he acknowledged her presence she quietly requested the keys to the bathroom. The building’s only restrooms were kept under lock and key, as to dissuade vandalism. 

The young girl with pink slacks made her way through the labyrinth of cubicles to the door. She chose the route despite a closer exit to avoid the heat and sun. As she made it outside she headed to the part of the building housing the one place she most wanted to be. As she stared in their direction she was faced with the reality : the restrooms were upstairs and the only way to acces the second story was from an external stairwell or the building elevator. 

She dared not take too long in her decision as this excursion had taken too long already. As she faced her options she decided the stairway would be too much physical effort for her poor bladder to take. She quickly trotted to the elevator and pressed the call button. Despite the one floor difference the elevator was taking too long. In desperation she jammed her index finger into the button hoping doing so would make the doors open faster. 

Finally she heard the ding as the doors opened. She quickly pressed the button to the second floor and willed the elevator up. A few seconds later the doors opened once again. She had made it to restrooms. As she fumbled with the keys she realized she could not remember which key opened the wretched door. After frantically failing to open the door she finally assertained the key that would solve her misery. As she inserted the key in the lock and turned the knob her greatest fear became reality as her bright pink slacks became wet. She rushed inside but the damage had been done. She reeked of urine. She was humiliated. The worst was yet to come as she pondered how to go downstairs and into her father’s office unnoticed. 

This is the true story of one little, sad girl. You believe me, right?

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