Terror peeing

I hate flying. I hate everything about it. I cope, when I Have to, but only with alcohol, a decent amount of happy pills, and a strict set of completely arbitrary rules. I have to sit over the wing, because my father once told me as a child it's the stablest part of the plane. I have to sit in a window seat, because I'm convinced that my intense focused stare out the window is the only thing that keeps the plane from falling out of the air during bouts of turbulence. 

The problem with this system, aside from the emasculation I feel because my wife does not give a fuck about flying, like... Does. Not. Give. A. Fuck., is that the combination of pills and booze makes me have to pee.

and if there's one thing I hate more then flying, it's peeing on a plane. 

I usually try to hold it as long as I can, I make sure I pee RIGHt before we board, and I drink no water once I'm in the plane, but still, usually 1-2 hours in, bingo. Rest assured, I have a crazy system for this too. First, I have to wait till we are in a state of zero turbulence, "flying on glass" as my father likes to say. Then I have to wait till the front bathrooms are free because fuck the back of the plane, and fuck just standing up on a plane for no reason. Once these conditions are met I raise to the front, get inside, forcefully pee as fast as I can, wash my hands, and briskly walk back to my seat. During this process I have two horrifying thoughts running through my head on high speed repeat. 

1.) the plane will break in the air and I'll get flung into the sky at thirty four thousand feet, with my bits hanging out, blasting panic pee into the stratosphere.
2.) More realistically, in my rush to pee, literally as fast as I can, I will explode my kidney, and be stuck somewhere over....(lemme check the live map) Wisconsin with a  sploded kidney.

The booze/mess make me pee pretty regularly, so on a 5 hour flight this cycle happens 2-3 times, one of them usually as we're flying over the Rockies, which is always bouncy. Since I insist on sitting on the window seat this means that 2-3 times a flight I have to be "that guy" to both my wife, who's already had to deal with getting middle seated and my white knuckling, and to some complete stranger who didn't sign on for this.

Ok, gotta go, stewardess is coming around and I need to place my drink order.