Wednesday, June 01, 2005


A post by David Bogner set me to thinking about the issue of Micturition Alfresco, AKA Pissin’ in Public.

As David points out, “if you’re a man, the world is your bathroom.” This, Esteemed Readers, is truth. Back in runny-nose days, I was instructed in the fine art of Manly Micturition by my Daddy, Eli his ownself. He’s the one who showed me how to piss on random automobile hubcaps. This is cute if you are a four-year-old boy. It is not nearly so cute if you are a fifty-two-year-old man, so I no longer do it as often as I used to.

Men will pee pretty much anywhere, as the mood strikes them. It’s so easy! Zip, whip, and drip-drip. Not so easy for the ladies. I recall one late-night drive back to our home in Connecticut from a four-day college reunion in New Jersey, in which large paper cups were brought out...

But for us men, a few common-sense rules apply. One must avoid urinating on such devices as Third Rails and Electric Fences, lest one risk cooking one’s Funky Bunch. In the interest of discretion (and avoiding arrest), it is wise not to expose the Membrum Virile to public view. Thus, a sheltered, out-of-view spot is best. And sometimes, shelter is where you find it.

On a small-plane hop from Phoenix to Palm Springs one time, I was seated across the row from a fellow who had had several frosty mugs of Malty Beverages between flights. Several: one could actually see the cartoony Wavy Lines o’ Inebriation emanating from him. After takeoff, he was horrified to discover that there was no in-flight restroom - it was too bumpy a flight to risk getting out of our seats anyway - and so he did what a man must do in those circumstances: he discreetly turned off his reading light and urinated into an airsick bag after requesting that anyone with a clear line of sight avert their eyes. A real gentleman. I can only imaging the horror of the flight attendants upon discovering the sloshing, warm package after we disembarked.

Urinating in the shower is perfectly OK. I know many of you ladies will be revolted by this, but believe me, it’s perfectly all long as you are alone in the shower. Urinating in the bathtub, on the other hand, is generally frowned upon. Even if you no longer are in the bathtub, it is not an appetizing prospect.

Urinating in the sink is considered a major breach of etiquette, especially if it is the kitchen sink. (That means you, Roscoe.)

Washing one’s hands is, of course, always desirable. Not always practical in the Open Air, however. Being careful not to piss on one’s hands minimizes the feeling of uncleanliness that Fastidious Gentlemen may experience after an Alfresco Pee. And, of course, you have the inside of your pockets to function as a sort of not-too-moist towelette.

And, of course, one must be sure to shake discreetly. Nothing is quite so embarrassing as the Telltale Pee-Track on your khakis that comes as a result of sloppy post-micturition shakeage...or as uncomfortable as that dribble of warm moisture down a pant leg, the result of Premature Shake-Off.

And one must shake. Other alternatives are too terrible to contemplate. Heed this Cautionary Tale, told here in limerick form:

There once was a young man named Enos,
Possessed of a horrible penis.
Whenever he pissed
He would give it a twist
So as not to drip piss in his jeanis.

’Nuff said.

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