Surrender:

Recently, I have been growing up. By growing up I mean building up my self-control. I have been listening to audiobooks, investing in bitcoin, becoming a vegetarian, going to the gym consistently, and so on. But somewhere along the internet of things I read that fasting was the best way to increase and accomplish this goal of ultimate self-governance. The idea being if you could deny yourself one of the most primal necessities of being a human such as food; you could easily deny yourself any other fickle desires that may come up. I never would have imagined that embarking upon this spiritual journey of denying my flesh would end up with me, a 27-year-old fully grown man, to lose all control and pee on himself.

It all started in late April of 2020. I had just scored an entry-level position at a local cannabis store, thanks to my cousin's referral. I know what you are thinking and no, smoking and distributing weed for a living does not coincide with my moral goals. But neither does being broke. Thanks to the recent shutdowns, the spike in unemployment rates, and the overbearing uncertainty that comes with a global pandemic; I could not afford to turn down a good job.

Honestly, I tried to look on the bright side at first. I thought that hanging out with a bunch of stoners would be a cakewalk. I thought that being of sober mind would give me a competitive edge, that I would easily exceed expectations, and excel in this workplace. As the weeks rolled by, I quickly discovered that I thought wrong.

They hated my guts! They did not care for my better-than-thou demeanor whatsoever. It was as if abstaining from smoking weed somehow made ME the loser. I did not understand this at all. They treated me like a police officer who was trying to shut down the party and confiscate their drugs.

The more I tried to fit in and work hard, follow all the rules, and overachieve; the more I was rejected. I could not figure it out. There were days where it took everything out of me not to just roll up a fat joint and join the herd. I just could not fathom it. What is wrong with me? Why do they hate me so much? But something in me said to hold on, things will get better just be patient.

The next day, I was called into the office. Oh, great this is it; I am being fired. The manager pulled up a chair and he said "It doesn't seem like you’re a great fit in that particular department. But we could really use a delivery driver, do you have a car?" he asked. "I do, but the DMV is closed, and I have not been able to get my registration renewed just yet," I said, frowning. "That's okay, you can drive my car until then. Let us get you set up on a route right now."

Pure excitement and joy came over me as I pulled out of the parking lot. This was a promotion. Drivers made way more money plus they got to take home all their tips. Not to mention I could listen to audiobooks and I did not have to hang out with angry stoners at the shop all day. I tried not to wrestle with the dichotomy of the 10 ounces that I had sitting in the passenger’s seat as I plugged up my phone and started to play music.

Now, I am not sure how many of you readers have ever fasted before, but the trick is to substitute the hunger with a gallon of water. Every time you start to feel the grumble you take a gulp, and it curbs the effect. The other trick to this is to stay near a bathroom. In all the excitement, not only did I forget to 'go' before I left, but I also failed to grasp the bathroom policy.

Am I allowed to pull over for a bathroom break? I pondered as I made the first delivery. Everything is closed thanks to COVID anyways, where would I go? I thought as I made the next stop. Best I just keep on driving, I do not want to make a bad first impression, I decided after the third stop. Big mistake. I thought as I pulled up to the final stop.

As soon as I got out of the car, I started praying in my head. PLEASE, do not let this happen right now. I just need a little bit of strength.

I have never felt a pressure so extreme. I knocked on the door. It took the couple what seemed like an eternity for them to come to the door. Beads of sweat were pouring down into my facemask. Maybe they will let me use their bath-- nope, COVID.

Finally, the door opened, "Hello, sir." I smiled. This is it. I cannot hold it anymore.

I closed my eyes in complete surrender as a warm stream began to trickle down my leg and into my Jordan’s; a stream which very quickly turned into the Red Sea. The couple stood there in front of me, exchanging dry looks with each other that I could not bear to receive. No doubt they could see and hear the audible river splashing into the pavement of their doorstep. I handed them the weed, they handed me the money, fluids still spouting down my leg as they closed the door.

I took off my shirt and laid it on the seat of my boss's car. As I drove back to the shop I laughed, "So much for self-control."