There are certainly some advantages to being a guy in respect to relieving one's self. When nature calls and there's not any restrooms nearby to take advantage of, a guy can duck into any secluded spot to relieve themselves. As bashful o' guy I am, admittedly I am no stranger to many a dark alley way, if I get caught betwixt home and an outside destination. Most recently, New Year's morning I could have been found hiding behind a well-placed bush at the local Chrysler Dealership. Not my proudest moment albeit, but I was quite taken with the originality of the positioning. Like Stonehenge, anytime I pass that area from that point forward, I can smile secretively at knowing that I pee'd there. (Actually, truth be known... I've never pee'd at Stonehenge, but it is on my "To Do List"...)
I'm not a fan of the standing and peeing practice. It's not something I do at home. Mostly because of the mess associated with it. Wives burdened with the unfortunate task of cleaning the bathroom can agree that not only is a man's "aim" off, but even when the stream is placed in the dead center of the bowl, the splashing water really mucks up the surrounding area. Disgusting, to say the least.
In my personal life, I am a sitter, or for those looking at the listed illustrations to the left, I am the #7 (The Just-Woken-Up). This gives me a moment to relax, collect my thoughts, and avoid the nastiness of spatter. I practice this at work too. Given the hectic pace of my days sometimes, it is always nice to steal away a moment or two to kick back (so to speak) and catch my breath. I don't literally kick back. It's not like I have an ottoman in there and I can put my feet up and think about what it'd be like to win the lottery or tell my boss to shove the job up his ass. I don't have that kind of time.
There are only two of us working out of this branch, and each one of us gets our own bathroom. Mine is the larger of the two and the one that smells more pleasant than the other. I don't know what the hell that guy eats, but his bathroom smells like the sewer backed up in there. I've had the misfortune of having to duck my head in there on an occasion or two and it was not pleasant. Unfortunately, however, when the boss-type guys come to town, they don't really give a crap which bathroom they use, and on more than one occasion, I've stepped into my bathroom at work to discover that not only is the lid left up (I prefer to keep it closed at all times), but the seat is left up as well. F*cking disgusting, because up on the wall, seemingly scarred in "off-white", or more of a clear with a yellowy tinge, is the clear cut markings of urine spatter. Even worse yet... The janitors have been neglecting to wash the wall, so it's a daily reminder of those yokels. Thankfully, however, the staining is not as bad as it is in my co-worker's bathroom. Yech!!!
I don't always do the sitting thing, though. Public washrooms are a necessary evil sometimes, and there is no f*cking way in hell I'm going to set my rosy ass cheeks down on a public toilet. Not unless the janitor is exiting the bathroom as I'm going in. Then there's a pretty good chance that no one has gotten in there yet to piss all over the seat. And why the f*ck do people piss on the seat? I don't get that. Lift the f*cking seat. It takes less than a second! Don't want to touch it with your hands? Use your feet then, stupid. I do it all the time and it may take an extra half-second, but so what?!? Pay it forward, for the poor f*ckin' guy who has no other choice but to drop a deuce!!
I have a shy bladder. Nine times outta ten, if I know someone suspects me of going to the bathroom, I can't go. If I go into a washroom and there are other's there, I can't go. If (God forbid) there's a line-up in the can, I can't go. If I really have to go and get up the courage to sidle up to the urinal, and someone is waiting behind me, I can't go. I remember years ago, I went to a KISS concert. I had to go into about seven bathrooms before I could find a free stall to go in and urinate. Shy bladder.
If I'm drunk, on the other hand. No problem. I can pee like a champion. But don't talk to me. People, especially at the bar, get all f*cking chatty and they never have anything of any value to say. It's always just stupid bullshit. Whether I'm drunk or sober, if you don't have anything pertinent to say, just stay quiet. If I'm peeing, and my leg suddenly starts on fire, then fine. Tell me, "Uh dude. Your leg is on fire." That would be an important thing to say. Then together we can figure out who's in a better position to piss on my leg to extinguish the fire. If all you want to do is talk about the weather. Then shut the f*ck up. I've been outside. I know what the weather is like. I don't need the update. I don't know how many times R____, this Filipino guy I used to work with, would ask me how my day was, while I was peeing. I'd constantly ignore him and he'd get all huffy. But unless you work in the porn industry, if you have your dick in your hand, there should never be any words exchanged by anyone, especially two dudes.
Sitting down at the toilet to conduct your "business", I've discovered, isn't without it's disadvantages. This morning I was taking a moment at work. Relaxing and writing a quick tweet to Kevin Smith, thanking him for the awesome show he put on last night at the Scotia Center in Toronto, which was fed LIVE around North America. A disgusting practice as well. I don't usually like texting, tweeting, or engaging in telephone conversations, while I've got my junk out. At home if I've stepped out of the shower and the telephone rings, I quickly throw on a pair of shorts. When I was finished with my tweeting task, I stood up and heard a jingling sound, followed by a "sploosh". I looked down into the bowl to discover that somehow a 25cent piece had escaped my pocket and wound up at the bottom of the yellowish toilet bowl. Now I had a real dilemma on my hands...
What denomination of coin has to drop into a pee-filled toilet bowl, that will urge you to retrieve it? A penny is hardly worth it. A nickel...? Probably not. A dime? Hmm. A quarter? Well, apparently my cut-off point is the dime, because after pausing for a moment, I actually heard my inner voice command me, "IT'S A QUARTER OF A DOLLAR!!! DIVE! DIVE! DIVE!!!" My hand then driving to the bottom of the surprisingly still cool piss-riddled water. The quarter slipping out of my fingers and nearly going down the drain, I thought "I have too much invested in this now to give up!" and I drove my hand deeper, pulling the quarter to safety. My greatest relief being that the quarter was breathing on it's own and never needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
The stupid shit I will do over the course of my day, is sometimes unbelievable. It's like I have no shame, and when I really put some thought into it, I guess I really don't. I don't really give a shit what people think of me. Well. There's one person who matters, but that's another story for another day.
So what of the ramifications of admitting to the world that I choose sitting over standing to urinate? I don't care. My biggest thrill, in regards to this, aside from never having to wash piss spatter off the outside of my toilet, was the discovery that Cleveland Brown, from FOX-TV's "The Cleveland Show", sits down to pee. I know it's a cartoon, but it's still kinda cool. Now if y'all will excuse me. I gotta go take a whiz!!!
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