Before I could drive. I used to be a swimmer. I swam competitively as a kid. I had to go to Tucson for a swim meet, and my parents couldn’t go, so I had to jump on with another kid’s parents. And basically, about 30 minutes into the drive from Tucson to Phoenix—which at that time, there was only an empty two-lane highway—I had to pee. And I was too embarrassed to ask. I wasn’t the self-confident Chester that you see now. I was the very low-self-esteem Chester who’s probably, like, 11 years old, who was afraid of everything. And I didn’t want to have to say, ‘Can we pull over?’ Because if I remember, the parents were kind of cranky, and they were kind of pissed that they had to take me home, and I got thrust upon them. So about 30 minutes into the drive I had to pee. Ten minutes later, I really had to pee. Twenty minutes later, I was sweating. Eventually I just peed my pants. I just peed all over the back of the car. And I never said anything. Except ‘thank you’ as I got out of the car. The moral of the story is: Just tell them to pull over. Don’t carry around the ‘I peed in the back of someone’s car and didn’t tell them’ for the rest of your life.

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