National Black Cow Day.
Triggered. When I was a kid, my grandparents made the long haul by auto, to visit family in NOLA. We stopped at an A&W, and being a kid, I wanted a Black Cow. My grandfather, who ran car trips like a military operation, said no. “Drink all of that and you’ll be asking me to pull over every five minutes the rest of the way.”
“Oh please granddad, I promise. I won’t ask you to stop once between here and New Orleans.” After much pleading and whining, he finally relented and I consumed a rather large Black Cow.
About five miles out of town, a familiar sense of urgency began to overtake me. I asked granddad if he could pull over. “Absolutely not. A promise is a promise. Hold it to NOLA.”
The old bastard made me hold it in for what seemed like hours, before pulling over 50 miles down the road. I think I pissed harder than ever before or since. I don’t think I’ve had another Black Cow either.