The first SF story I have comes from the highlands of Guatemala. I was a missionary there. One day a bunch of us were traveling to attend a meeting. The ride was long and there are no rest stops in Guatemala. We were in a packed mini-van. One of the other missionaries needed a pit stop. Miraculously, he was able to convince the driver to stop … something to the effect of “you’ll have to clean up my urine if you don’t stop.”

The minivan had one side-door and the missionary (we’ll call him Chuck) was sitting in the very back. 75% of the occupants had to exit. Once Chuck was out in the open air, the rest of us got back in. I didn’t need to exit and so I remained in my seat in the very back. We all waited patiently while Chuck relieved himself on the side of the road.

When he was finished, 75% of us exited the minivan and let Chuck back in. Soon we were humming down the road again. Meanwhile, Chuck was laughing uncontrollably. I asked him what was so funny. Stage fright. With all those people in the van just two feet away, he couldn’t relax sufficiently to release!

He waited two more hours of driving before he found a private bathroom.