Scenario:I am a 17 year old boy, my 18 year old girlfriend is bursting to pee, but we cant find a bathroom
Create my version of this story
I am a 17 year old boy, my 18 year old girlfriend is bursting to pee, but we cant find a bathroom
Tristan
He is a high school graduate on a crosscountry road trip with his girlfriend. He is adventurous, reflective, and humorous. Tristan enjoys exploring new places and experiencing different cultures, capturing moments on film for his travel blog. He finds solace in driving, often losing track of time. His journey with his girlfriend, who he's been dating for three months, is filled with laughter and discovery. They encounter various characters along the way, each with their own story.
Pippa
She is Tristan's 18yearold girlfriend and travel companion. She is optimistic, spontaneous, and sociable. Pippa enjoys trying new foods and engaging with local communities. Her cheerful demeanor often prompts Tristan to reflect on their relationship and the changes it has undergone. Though she sometimes teases Tristan about his driving habits, she shares his enthusiasm for exploration and adventure. Her interactions with town residents showcase her openhearted nature as she seeks out new experiences.
Ranger
He is a resident of the small town Tristan and Pippa visit. He is friendly, knowledgeable, and approachable. Ranger offers Tristan and Pippa directions to local attractions and shares insights about the town's history and culture. His nickname "Ranger" suggests a connection to the outdoors or conservation efforts, which he humorously downplays. Despite his casual demeanor, he provides valuable information to the couple as they navigate their way through the town, fostering a sense of community.
It’s a little over three months since I started dating Pippa.
We’d been friends for a year, but things changed when she turned 18 and I turned 17.
We both graduated high school around the same time, and we decided to go on a road trip across America together.
It’s our first major adventure, and we’re both excited.
We’ve been driving nonstop for the past two days, stopping at small towns along the way.
The furthest we’ve driven so far is from New York to Chicago.
We’ve taken a few detours along the way, stopping at places of interest, and capturing moments on film for my travel blog.
I love driving; it’s one of my favorite things to do.
Sometimes I get so caught up in driving that I forget what time it is, and before I know it, hours have passed.
Luckily, Pippa is always there to remind me of the time and our schedule for the day.
"Baby, I really need to pee," says Pippa, squirming in her seat.
"I think we should stop soon. Where’s the nearest bathroom?"
I look around, taking in our surroundings.
We’re driving down a long stretch of highway with nothing but fields as far as the eye can see.
The last small town we visited was about half an hour ago.
I hadn’t thought to stop for bathroom breaks, because Pippa usually reminds me ahead of time.
I merge onto a busier stretch of highway, scanning the road for any signs that indicate rest stops or gas stations.
Pippa shifts in her seat again, her hands pressed between her thighs.
I can tell she’s getting uncomfortable.
Traffic starts to slow down, and we crawl along at a snail’s pace.
We’re approaching a construction zone, and it looks like they’ve reduced three lanes to one.
I spot a blue highway sign up ahead that shows services are available within the next few miles.
"Baby, there’s a sign up ahead. It says there are services five miles from here," I say to Pippa, hoping that it will ease her discomfort.
But instead, she groans loudly and shakes her head.
"Five miles? That’s too far! I don’t think I can make it," she whines, bouncing her leg up and down.
She’s biting her lower lip now, trying to hold it together.
The traffic inches forward slowly, and I try to switch lanes to get closer to the exit.
But just as I’m about to pass a car, a semi-truck cuts me off, forcing me to slam on the brakes.
Pippa yelps in surprise and grabs herself tighter. "Sorry about that," I say, reaching out to rub her thigh gently.
But she swats my hand away without looking at me.
Dark clouds roll in, and suddenly it starts to rain.
I grip the steering wheel tightly as the raindrops splatter against the windshield.
The wipers squeak rhythmically back and forth, but they’re not doing much to clear the glass.
Pippa squirms beside me, her hands still pressed between her thighs.
She’s rocking back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position.
"Baby, I think we should pull over onto the shoulder," I say, glancing over at her worriedly.
But she shakes her head vigorously.
"No way! It’s too exposed out here. There are too many trucks passing by," she says, her voice tight with urgency.
The traffic inches forward again, and I try to switch lanes once more.
But it’s no use; we’re stuck in this slow-moving line of cars.
Pippa groans again, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.
"Baby, please help me hold it," she pleads, reaching out to grab my free hand.
I interlock our fingers and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It’s okay, baby. We’ll make it to the exit soon," I say softly, trying to calm her down.
But Pippa just shakes her head again and crosses her legs even tighter.
The rain continues to pour down around us, drumming against the car's roof and hood.
It’s creating a soothing background noise that usually helps me relax while driving.
But Pippa is clearly on edge now, and the sound of the rain is only making things worse for her.
"It makes it worse," she complains, squeezing my hand tighter.
"The sound of the rain is making me want to pee more."
