My life as hatorade gatorade

After I moved to Arizona I found a group of fabulous girlfriends. We lived life like the MTV show Laguna Beach, sauntering around town, preying on boys, pranking, blasting country jams, dancing and going to church. We had weekly girl nights where we'd dress up, go to dinner and drive around town. One evening in particular we'd done our nightly duties and settled down at Ashley's place. We were joking around and Kristy locked me and Ashley out of the house. We were out there for a good bit when I realized just how badly I had to pee. We had already tried to get in at all entrances, we'd banged on the door and tried to fit through the doggie door. We made it into the garage and started banging on the door screaming things like, "We have to pee!!", "open up or else!" and what not. The girls were not having it and I was about to explode, or implode, however, I had no bathroom facility nearby. I wasn't about to pee outside, I'm a lady, and besides, last time I did that I got it everywhere. So I searched around the garage for something to pee in. The only thing I found was a lemon-lime Gatorade bottle. I did my business and when we finally were allowed back inside, I brought the bottle with me. I certainly didn't want Ashley's parents thinking it was Gatorade. As I was walking in Kristy said, "where'd you get that?". I explained to her that I really did have to pee and that I'd done so in the bottle. She didn't believe me, so I urged her to try it. Well, she opened the bottle and smelled my pee. She said, "its not pee Jodi, come on!" I told her to drink it but she wouldn't, so I dumped it. Moral of the story, it would've been more ladylike to use a tree.