I grab the steering wheel and drive myself to the side of the building. Jake glances up from the grassy area by the street where Swarley sniffs for the perfect spot to mark. Jake rubs his hand over his mouth.

Go ahead, Jake the Jerk, laugh all you want. I don’t care. Nothing in the world matters at this moment as much as the emptying of my bladder.

No toilet seat liner.

No place to hang my purse or the steering wheel.

Screw it.

I slide my purse strap around my neck, do the same with the steering wheel, shimmy out of my denim shorts, and plop down on the germ-infested toilet seat.

“Oh … my …. god …” I whisper, closing my eyes. This feels better than my last orgasm.

After peeing out an entire swimming pool, I reach for the toilet paper.

None. Why doesn’t that surprise me?

I don’t have a single tissue in my purse, so I’m forced to shake and go.

Wash my hands.

Shake them dry as well because … yep, no paper towels or a hand dryer.

Opening the door with my shirt protecting my hand, I let it close behind me. Then I work the steering wheel back over my head to lock the door.

But …

“Dammit!” It catches on my purse strap so I twist it free, trying not to damage the strap.

Left. Right. Up. Down.

I work it in every direction, tipping my chin up, tucking it down, working the steering wheel and my head every which way.

“Ugh!” I cringe as it pulls at my hair. Can’t have that. It just slipped over my head. Why won’t it come off?

“Don’t lock it. I need to take a piss. Swarley’s back in the truck. You’re welcome. And don’t worry, I paid for the gas.”

I roll my eyes at his agitating voice behind me. “It’s all yours.” Turning, I push back my shoulders, chin up, like I don’t have my purse and a steering wheel hanging from my neck.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Nice bling.”

My lips curl together.

“The cashier said you have the key. Give it to me so I can lock it back up when I’m done.”

Dear Heavenly Father,

I’m sorry. The purity ring I wore in high school was a promise to you that I would keep my virginity. I shouldn’t have used it as a revirginization ring. If I wasn’t supposed to give my body to another until later in life, would it have killed you to delay the onset of puberty? Totally not putting all the blame on you, just thinking aloud. Anyway … if you still love me. Hell—I mean heck—if you ever loved me, could you please let this steering wheel slip off my head as easily as it slipped on? In three … two … one.