“I really, really, really have to pee,” Jacob said.
“Well,” Scarlett replied, “you have two options. One, wait until we get to the restaurant.”
“Which is where?” Jacob said quickly, before she could continue.
“About a twenty minute walk.”
“Huh. What’s option two?”
“Public restroom. Right over there.” She pointed at two doors across the street with chipped blue paint, grimy tiles between, and graffiti low enough down that it was either made by a very short dwarf, or had simply been too low for the maintenance crew to bother removing.
“Um. Oh. Well.” Jacob stood staring at the doors for a minute. They could just see the sign for the male washroom, with a mustache added to the stick figure. “I don’t know.”
“Twenty minutes to a clean washroom – well, probably clean, we don’t know, restaurants are always a crapshoot – or right now, in the definitely sketchy one.”
Jacob looked at the door, then at Scarlett, then back to the door. The urine was pressing on all sides of his bladder. He couldn’t tell if it was bad enough to need to go immediately, or if he would make it the twenty minutes, which involved walking, sloshing it around, more pressure on the muscles. Possibly a UTI later.
“Anything between here and there?”
“I don’t know, I don’t come here often.”
“Dammit. Okay, I’ll go. If I’m not back in five minutes, call the cops, would you?”
Scarlett laughed. “Will do. Have fun. I’ll wait here.”
Jacob jogged across the road and didn’t slow down for the door. Scarlett was just about to call when he re-emerged, looking happy and relieved, a few spots drying on his pants.