L, M, N, O, Pee…

I like peeing outside (or titled “how my blog just killed any chance for me to be hired by the government and/or how to totally embarrass my kids, yet again.”).

Not like some sort of perverse fetish like thing… more like a carryover from when I was much younger and a Boy Scout. We’d go camping, and they’d have outhouses that we called latrines that we were supposed to use, but just whipping it out and letting it flow was somehow morally decadent and freeing all at the same time.

I grew up in Marshallton, PA which is between West Chester and Downingtown. It’s a small “village” that was a fantastic place to grow up and hasn’t changed at all since when I was a child. My “playground” was the outdoors. I learned to “commune with nature” because I’d be outside all day and I found it easier to just pee outdoors instead of running all the way home. No big deal.

I have since from my days at high school keg parties and other outdoor events done my share of outdoor urination but never in front of people, because well it’s just private (although, who HASN’T peed their name on a fresh blanket of snow?).

I remember once when I was about 11 or 12 my Dad was busted in a West Chester alley for “public urination/intoxication” I think is what they called it at the time. He was pissed and had to pay a fine.

Growing up boating on the Cheasapeeeeke Bay, the Maxwell House coffee can was our bathroom with our first smaller boats until we got a real head (bathroom) as the boats grew larger. But still, just whippin’ it out over the side of the boat was… well… really cool!

Recently, Daryl and I had a “neighbor” across the way that we used to refer to as “pee guy.” He took my private liberating task and turned it into something less than right. We were sitting out on our little patio one night a few summers ago (when we used to smoke) and this neighbor who lived on an end unit townhouse used to take his dog out (unleashed of course) and let his dog do his stuff (NEVER picked it up) and then we watched him just stand on the grass by a pine tree, whip it out and just PEE! I couldn’t see as well from where I was sitting but Daryl assured me that the guy was peeing. I guess it wasn’t so much the public-ness of his urination as much as the guy’s bathroom was just steps away in his townhouse! The guy continued his nightly ritual of outdoor bladder relief for months. The last straw came when one morning in broad daylight he had the dog out; he went over to his piece of shit car, opened the driver’s side door and just stood there and peed. I called the cops. The man has since moved out and the show is over.

I guess my point on this bit of writing is that peeing should be a private thing when it’s done outside. Although I guess that’s making a public thing private… or a private thing public… I’m confused.

ed.

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