Apart from the occasional, seemingly unavoidable head-on collision with a tractor it is very rare for me to fear for my life. I do sometimes get my head stuck in railings but that is just a momentary fear that comes with knowing your stuck with you’re arse waving in the air behind you.
I was just wondering if anyone else has ever had a trouser moistening moment.
egg
Do you mean from fear or from sheer stupidity?
Yeah, we just want to make sure we pull from the correct repertoire of stories.
I was driving home on my learner’s permit from Lunenburg, Massachusetts to my home in Pepperell. This involves taking a route that goes through the next town over from mine, Townsend, which has a four way stop light downtown. At this intersection, it is necessary to make a right turn to get home. This intersection does not allow a right turn on a red light.
On this particular day, the light was red as I cam up to the intersection. I stopped pretty far back from the intersection, for some reason. As we were sitting waiting for it to change, a huge semi-trailer took a right onto the road we were waiting on. Being a big truck, it needs a lot of space for a turn. The guy, for some reason, took the turn pretty fast. So, what we, sitting patiently in our minivan saw, was this tractor trailer swing way out into our lane as he turned, heading right toward us, completely unable to do anything about it. If you had looked into the car at that moment, we would have looked something like this: Me: :eek: My brother: :eek: My mother: :eek::eek:
For a second there, I was really afraid that I was going to die. Then the truck swung past us as he continued the turn, and we were left sitting in the van, absolutely terrified. Yeah, that was scary.
Ah, yes, but Grelby, the true question is: did you piss your pants?
I think your smilies convey the feeling exactly!
I was driving through Cheyenne when one of those sudden mountain sleet/hail storms hit. There was no warning whatsoever - it went from slightly overcast to downpour in an instant. My windows - all of 'em - fogged up immediately.
I let off the gas and dropped into first gear to slow up as “And when you go into a skid, boys and girls, NEVER step on your break” flashed through my mind - hell, I could even smell that stupid driver’s ed. classroom. I flipped on my wipers, defrost, and rear de-fog. A few seconds later I checked my rear view mirror and, through the stripey-bits of glass I could see through I saw a grille.
Not a Peterbilt or Mack emblem, not a headlight, not a license plate, not a bumper. I saw a grille.
I have no idea how that trucker managed to avoid killing me, but he must’ve been standing on his brakes.
Your mother has two heads?
Dammit, dammit, dammit…why can’t I be on time for anything???
The scene in the film “Seven” when all the cops are gathered up close and around “Sloth” and he gasps to life. I lie a little pee out then.
Before that was when I broke my neck and I couldn’t move my legs for just a minute.
I had a near-wet-pants moment recently when sitting out near a watering tank on a ranch, hunting dove. I kept hearing something behind me, but couldn’t pinpoint it. Suddenly, I heard a rustling through the tall grass directly behind me. I jerked my head around to see the last half of a large rattlesnake slithering past, about two feet away. I didn’t wait to see where his front half was–I jumped and ran and thankfully he took off in the other direction. It’s amazing how instinct can take over in situations like that and you act without thinking. On another hunting trip, I was lifting the metal lid to an electrical box on a telephone pole and there was a nest of about a hundred (no kidding!) yellow jackets just inches from my face. Before it even fully registered in my mind, I was in flight. No stings and no wet pants, but boy! What an adrenaline rush!
And I thought this was a thread about sex. [sup]DAMN[/sup]
Some years ago, my roommate and I were driving back to our hometown on a Friday afternoon after class. These three hour trips were made somewhat more enjoyable by large amounts of Humboldt’s finest. We had stopped to get gas, buy sodas and snacks, and were in the process of getting back on the freeway. My 1979 Mazda GLC was slowly getting up to speed when my roommate attempted to hand me a lit fatty which I dropped and it ended up landing between my legs and rolling down my seat to some location under my crotch. As I managed to grab it, I heard him say in an incredibly calm voice “Oh fuck.” I looked up just as we were about to merge under the trailer end of a semi. It is interesting how things slow down or become incredible clear at these moments. I have this vivid memory of the trailer’s tie-down ropes bouncing along about six inches from my driver’s side window as I slowly turned the wheel and drove onto the shoulder of the highway while my roommate repeated himself several hundred times.
Grade school.
On the bus coming home.
Suddenly everyone looked left out of the bus and there floating and ready to hit the ground was a tornado!
It was probably 2 miles away. Everything was quiet and it didn’t help that the bus driver stopped.
Everyone had intense fear.:eek:
Trust me, everyone prayed to never be bad again. The thing was huge and when it hit the ground, dirt and junk went everywhere.
Not a pleasant thing to see when you’re a kid.
Oh MEB, I’m still laughing!
I don’t think I’ve actually pissed my pants since I was a kid, other than just not paying real good attention at the urinal.
I do remember though having to go so bad that instead of letting young Mr. Happy contain himself, I reached down and grabbed him, pants and all, until I could get to the pot.
Then what do you do? Your thumb and forefinger, the little Dutch Boy of the equation, is in the way of your zipper. Let it go to get your pants down and pee’s gonna fly everywhere.
Basically, it was just a tradeoff of pissing my pants silly in front of the john instead of out on the playground.
Looking down the barrel of an automatic pistol pointed at my head is a panty peeing moment I’ll never forget. FYI, I’m just a regular ham-n-egger who’s idea of a walk on the wild side is having breakfast food for dinner. This happened in broad daylight in the parking lot of WalMart on Hilton Head Island in South Carolina. I’d gone to do some lunch-hour shopping and had to return to my car to look for a receipt. I was sitting in the driver’s seat with my feet out the door and totally oblivious when I heard the passenger side door open. All I could see was a god-awful plaid sports jacket and for a Pollyanna moment I figured it had to be someone I knew. That misconception vanished as a total stranger made himself at home in the passenger seat. Before I had time to say WTF!! he’d pulled that gun out of the pocket of the god-awful sports coat and ordered me to “get in the car.” Without engaging too many brain cells, I concluded I’d have a better shot (no pun intended) at getting out of this nightmare in a parking lot than on a dirt road. I think I actually levitated to a spot behind the next parked car where I tried to stuff my heart back down into my ribcage. Mr. Bad Jacket calmly got out of my car and got into a late model Cadillac and slowly drove off. A dealer plate crushed my feeble attempt to ID the bastard and I NEVER did find out WTF!
Good thinking, actually. Better alive and curious, than dead in a ditch somewhere, TA.
Hm. First story that comes to mind happened back when I was still living in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I was driving back from class one day (and yes, I lived quite a ways from civilization at the time) and stopped for a bear cub. I went through the usual “Aaah, how cute” motions until something made me look to the right. About 6 feet from my passenger window was his mother. Standing on her rear legs. Looking at me. I fled the scene. Sorry. Not up to getting mauled by a 400 pound bear, even if I was inside a car at the time…
Scene:
Divided (by Jersey Barriers) Interstate Highway into Hartford Conn. High Speed, no shoulder dangerous type road. Relatively heavy rain. I am in the lane next to the barrier to my left (the passing lane).
The road in under perpetual construction. They have evidently forgot about drainage.
18-wheeler on the other side of the highway (going in the opposite direction) hits a massive puddle sending a truly impressive amount of water over the barrier right at me (going 60+ in tight competitive east coast traffic).
Instant blinding. Huge thud when the water hit, car serves from the impact of the water, but its hard to correct as I can’t see crap, and had nowhere to go if I did.
10 long seconds later, I am still going straight, and did not hit anything- somehow.
30 seconds later my heart started again.
No wet spot- only cause I was too busy envisioning the truly horrible wreck I was about to get in.
Also, some situations involving heights while in the military where I was really terrified the whole damn time, but had to pretend otherwise. Even after one guy fell off, making a neat little dirt cloud on impact like Wily E Coyote did in the cartoons.
(First attempt didn’t work, hopefully the hamsters aren’t just holding it back and cackling while I double post…)
My husband and I were driving on a rural road, speed limit ~45, one lane each way. We were on a somewhat hilly stretch, with no passing indicated. There were perhaps 4 car lengths between us and the car in front of us.
I suddenly had the impression that perhaps my husband had fallen asleep at the wheel, because here was this BMW with a foreign license plate perhaps 2 car lengths ahead of us, and coming for us - my snap judgement was that we must have veered into the wrong lane. Almost at the same instant I realized no, we were in our lane and both cars were traveling at a high rate of speed towards each other across a very small distance.
My muscles began tensing up in reaction, and during that process we were somehow on the gravel shoulder, around the BMW, and then back on the road continuing as if nothing had happened - well, barring the BMW swerving back into its proper lane and cutting someone off. That car ended up losing control in an attempt to avoid a collision and wound up on the shoulder of the road.
I glanced at my husband, and he was as wide-eyed as I was. He glanced at me. We both asked each other if that had just happened the way we thought it did. Relating our impressions to each other, sure enough, the BMW driver had pulled out of his lane into ours in an attempt to pass a car ahead of him. My husband has excellent driving reflexes, and managed to swerve onto the gravel shoulder immediately (barely consciously realizing what he was doing), and in a controlled-enough fashion to not skid, and then get back onto the road.
Probably the only reason neither of us wet our pants is that it all happened too fast.
I was driving home from work one night in October. This was back when I lived out in the middle of the county (note: county = country = middle of nowhere surrounded by cornfields and cows). My hubby and I carpooled in together during the week, but would bring both of our cars home on the weekends, and this was Friday evening. I was in front, he was following me with our daughter in the car with him.
Most of the county roads border fields, and have drainage ditches running along them, around six to eight feet deep. The speed limit out there is 80km, and the usual travelling speed is around 100km (60 mph). We were going down one of those roads, one lane wide, when a buck stepped up out of the ditch and walked out onto the road, right in front of my car.
It takes far longer to explain what happened than it took for it to actually happen. I saw his head coming out of the ditch from amongst the reeds, and at first thought, “Oh, no, a dog…” Then he stepped up, and it became very, very clear that this was no god. This buck had a full rack, and was much taller than my car. This guy was big… large enough for my husband to be able to see his entire head well above the roof of my Topaz. My eyes must have opened wider than they ever have before. :o doesn’t even do it justice.
My mind immediately registered two thoughts: First, that if I slammed into him, there was a good chance that neither one of us would walk away from the collision; and second, that if I slammed on the brakes, my husband and daughter were going to slam into me. I also knew that I had little room to manoeuver - remember those 8 foot ditches? I hit the brakes, but not to the floor, and swerved to the right, with the graces of a two foot wide gravel shoulder.
To my amazement and relief, the buck never stopped moving. When he stepped out onto the road, he did look right at my car - at the time, it seemed as if he was looking right at me - and then he non-chalantly proceeded across the road, down into the ditch on the other side. Had he stopped, I would not have made it around him.
That night, I looked more like a ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ than the deer did. :o
When we got to the house a good thirty minutes later, my arms were still shaking. I don’t recall any actual wet spots on the seats, but I’d say that was the closest call I’ve ever had.
Dammit. Preview. Wrong smiley.