Frances had been waiting in the town square, waiting for her Valentine blind date. She already drank two small bottles of lager as she was very nervous. She was brunette, wore 1960s-style glasses, and dressed in a sky blue sweater and white jeans.
Crowds of people were walking around her, and she kept turning her face around every time she saw some attractive looking men. Suddenly, she felt a little tap on her shoulder.
“Hello,” said the voice. Frances looked around to see this gorgeous, hunky guy. He was tall, was wearing an open-collared shirt covered by a brown blazer, which black chinos and shoes.
“I’m Mike,” he said, giving Frances a single red rose.
“Er, gosh, thank you,” she said gratefully. “I’m Frances.”
After exchanging further hellos, Mike said, “There’s a nice restaurant a few hundred metres from here, just for a nice dinner and a chat.”
“Great!” Frances agreed, and they walked down to this little place which Mike had booked a small table next to the window. After they sat down, they ordered a bottle of wine while waiting for their meal. Frances poured a glass and drank it almost in one go.
“Careful,” said Mike. “We need to get our meal first.”
Soon, the couple were to have their meal, in which they talked about each other’s backgrounds. Soon, Frances ordered more wine and started drinking from it. The combination of the wine and the earlier lager she drank meant she started to fidget a little under the table.
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked.
“Nothing… that’s all, just the wine,” Frances replied.
They continued to enjoy themselves. Mike got up to use the toilet a couple of times, but Frances didn’t. Indeed all night she never left her seat, even though she was getting desperate. In her mind, she hated using strange bathrooms, even if they were nearby.
By the end of the evening, she was wriggling and had her legs crossed tightly in her seat. When both Mike and Frances were preparing to leave, he asked her if she needed the bathroom.
“No, I’m okay,” she replied, but she knew she wasn’t.
After they left the restaurant to walk through the town square, Mike noticed that Frances was walking and bending in a funny way.
“Mike, I hate to say this, but I really need to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“Let’s go back to the restaurant, it may still be open,” Mike replied, but when they got back there, it was being closed for the night. Frances had one hand jammed inbetween her legs.
“Don’t worry, there should be one around here,” Mike said, looking into the distance to see if there were any public bathrooms nearby. they saw some and rushed to them, but they were locked for the night.
“Oh nooooo, I’m going to wet myself!” screamed Frances, as she felt pee seep through her underwear and trickle down the inner thigh of her jeans. She began to sob and apologised to Mike before running away from him, clearly feeling embarrassed and leaving behind a trail of pee. Mike tried to stop her.
“Frances, wait… I’m sorry, er, can I have your phone number?”
But she ran away into the night, never to be seen again…