1.0 gpf / 4.9 lpf

5.2.2k2


I know that people are really weird, but now and again I’m reminded of the dizzying heights that weirdness reaches. (Note: While this Venue Announcement references urination, it’s not really about piss. It’s about people being odd. I had thought that referencing urine would perhaps be too base a detail, it would maybe put some of you lovely List Members off ... then I reread some of the old Venue Announcements and figured that you were game for anything.)

What’s the most fun thing to do with four free tickets to the SF Giants game? Why, it’s to use two tickets to attend the game and sell the other two and buy beer and hotdogs with the proceeds. You might guess that this exact scenario played out not but a week ago. I’m no Giants fan, but I’m a fan of the game and I enjoy rooting against Barry, Jeff, J.T. and the rest of those goons.
It didn’t take too long to drink up the proceeds from the ticket sales, and not long after that I needed to “let one out and put one back.” (I learned that wonderful gem of an expression during a rain-delay at Wrigley Field: A beer vendor had camped-out near the men’s room exit and was hawking his wares to the guys exiting. It was a pretty clever sales pitch and I observed many astute Cubs fans realizing this and taking him up.) At any rate, I was full of beer and had to go.

There’s a misconception that the lines to men’s rooms are always short and the turnover is brisk. When there’s ten urinals and 100 guys that gotta go ... I think you get the idea. To this equation, though, you must factor in another phenomena: One wants to wait as long as possible, perhaps even enduring not a small amount of discomfort, before joining the queue, so as to miss as little of the game as possible.

So there I was, in line, waiting to take a piss. Sometimes the wait is excruciating, but this time it was not so bad. That is until a few berserker Giants fans came in and made a scene. They started to yell for the people in front to hurry up, started burping loudly, started swearing and carrying on. Now while I’m all for swearing, carrying on and burping loudly, I see no point to yell for someone to hurry up pissing. If you are alive, you know that pissing takes as long as it takes, and if you’ve got a full bladder that you’ve been holding for a while, you got low pressure. Then you got a Neanderthal yelling at you. Some folks can’t pee under those circumstances. Not me, though, I got no anxiety. I just got people ahead of me in line.

The line to my right turned out to be the little, “child’s size” urinal. As there weren’t any children, folks were using the shorty. I got no problem with that. I were in that line and it wasn’t broke, I’d let go.

Several innings and naturally several expensive Budweisers later, I had to revisit the john. Turned out I got in the same line, one next to the shorty urinal. When I got close enough, I noticed there was a dad helping a child pee in the child-sized urinal. Well I’ll be damned, I thought. Moments later the kid finished up and he and his dad left. And the shorty was totally open. The lines were eight-to-ten deep for the others, but the short one’s line was empty. (Here’s the weird people part, if you’ve been waiting for it.) Like I said, I have no piss-anxiety, so I mentioned to the jackass in front of me in line that the shorty was open. I was trying to be polite but this dolt’s reaction was as if I had told him, “Hey mister, you don’t fuck that dead pig in that alley, I sure will.” He visibly recoiled and stared at me. “It’s all yours, sport. Be my guest.” I didn’t let him scare me off. I jumped right on up and pissed in the shorty. (It was kinda like pissing on the floor, but that’s a different story.) I finished up and, lo and behold, there’s ten people in line for the shorty behind me. And the Puritan is still six deep. Ha.

It took me a few days before I remembered this little scene. And while at one time in my life such an interaction would really irritate me, now it doesn’t so much. Who cares? It’s not my job to figure on why some people are terrified of peeing in a short, child’s-size urinal. It’s my job to observe and report. It’s also my job to say this:

Tonight: Bloom's Saloon

News: News: Look for kin of Robot at tonight’s Potrero Hill meeting. Oh, and Happy Graduation to kin of Robot. Oh, and ... it seems I’ve used up all my time today. You merely get Find the reference!

And then, Porn Title of the Week: The Joy Fuck Club

And then, Satanic Word of the Week: He

And then, Tonight’s Singled-Out List Member: Sally C.

And then ... Linkey Loo!


And then ... no and then