BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 140
league baseball player did it, he‟d be batting .430, getting more money than anyone in the
game.
So, as my fiancée, she convinced her folks she should ride with me. We were be-
bopping along on I-96 to Grand Rapids, drinking beer, as usual. When I‟d drink beer,
there was a funny reaction. It earned me a nickname, “Dime Bladder”. I could usually
stow away the first six with no problem. After that, once I‟d taken a leak, it was at least
two times per beer. That‟s another reason I was glad I had a car. I almost always drove
so I wouldn‟t be forced to beg some asshole to stop before I pissed my pants. We did a
lot of drinking while driving on remote country roads.
In this case, Jackie and I were cruising along in my 1958 white two-door Olds
around the 65 mph speed limit. I‟d already taken a leak the sneaky way. Held an empty
can in place and, with a dexterity acquired by a great deal of repetition, peed in the can,
then tossed it out. (I know, an ecological pig. I never toss anything from my car
anymore, even cigarette butts).
Jackie had to pee. It wasn‟t just normal girl stuff, since they pee just to pass the
time, or to annoy the guy they‟re with. It was a legitimate request from a girl who drank
beer. That trait set her a notch above the others. Most girls wanted wine or sloe gin.
Very few would drink beer with a guy.
We‟d been talking about timing. She was worried we might arrive late. Her
concerns weren‟t out of line, but I sure as hell wasn‟t gonna speed with beer in the car,
both of us being minors. Jackie came up with the answer, one I‟d never dare suggest.
She pulled down her panties, scooted forward on the seat, held a can with only the tab top
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