Ok girls, men have that convenient built in hose that can pee up, down, left, right, or on someone’s shoes and what do we have?! The fucking squat.
If you’ve ever spent time in any sort of third world country, you’ll know the ol’ hole-in-the-ground horror well. My first legitimate overseas squat was in Borneo, and it was at a truck stop ‘bathroom’ with concrete floors, a hole in that concrete to piss and shit in, and a bucket full of water next to it with a plastic measuring cup floating in it. Right before I walked in, a hunched old lady that looked 80 (but judging on how well Asians age, could very well have been in her 90’s) had just walked out. I walked in the stall and saw planks of wood for walls and door, no lock on the door, or even a handle for that matter.
First thought was “Fuck. I’m impressed that that old bag used this ‘toilet’ but she missed the hole fo sho! There’s no chance she squatted low enough to ensure she didn’t miss. She’d never get back up..’. I decided for my own sanity to imagine she was super flexi like a yogi and nailed it. If she can do it, i can do it! But I tipped some water on the concrete anyway. Don’t need old lady piss on my shoes.
And I’m glad I’m flexible cos pissing in holes is about as hard as pissing into a urine sample cup. You think you know where the stream is going to be but you thought wrong. And that’s why my cup labels are always hard to write on, sorry pathology peeps! Lend me a funnel and you wouldn’t have these problems, its your own fault. And would it kill you to handle my cup with gloves on? I’m pretty sure your piss hands are now touching all the medical instruments in the room.. And your sandwich. Anyway. I digress..
It got worse than this concrete stall. We stayed in the jungle for a couple of nights (in hammocks ‘just high enough where the jungle cats can’t reach you’). If you’re ever wanting a holiday with some truly awesome experiences, do a tour with Intrepid. Anyway first night, its pitch black, our hammocks are up and look like they won’t fall down as soon as we cough, dinner is about to get underway so me and my mum (yeah we holiday together sometimes naaawww haha) head over to the ‘bathroom’. Its just a hole in the dirt, with a stick and small piece of fabric tied between it and a tree, and a roll of toilet paper on the stick. Yayyy toilet paper!
We can’t see anything so like everyone in our group, are wearing head torches. Mum is waiting a couple of metres away while I go to squat, I tell her to face away. We continue chatting (as us women like to do while we’re pissing), then I feel something spike my arse, mid-wee. I cry out and tell mum “I think something bit my arse?!?!!” What does she do? Turns around and asks if I’m ok and what was it. Head torch shines straight on me like a spot light, I start laughing and tell her to turn away, she bursts out laughing too and I then realise the fabric doesn’t protect me from everyone at dinner who heard us laughing and from the bunch of lights shining in my direction I can tell are looking over at me. They call out “are you two ok over there?!”. Fucking head torches. Remember to enjoy that meal while you’re watching me wipe!
Now I guess apart from random holidays and camping adventures, the rest of our squats are done while drunk. I’ll have you know that I have a preeeeetty big bladder so thankfully don’t do the drunk squat *too* often but its obligatory in life, so who am I to complain?
One time at Oktoberfest in Munich, in one afternoon and night I drank 8 steins (that’s 8 litres of beer – thank you, I’m Australian) and only remember going to the toilet twice. That’s pretty fucked. A 4 litre piss?! Anyway it had to have been more than that, and considering one lineup took me 45 minutes to reach the toilet (and I saw a girl piss her pants in line), I’m surprised I wasn’t just hanging out drinking at the toilets. That’s where the party is at! Maybe I was. I’m not even sure how I got home but wait for it you guys, NO hangover the next day. That was the young buck stamina. Wait, is it still buck if I’m a girl? Whatever.
In case you read this then somehow end up at Oktoberfest, go early and get a seat inside. The toilets inside are much quicker and when you’re not in the toilet, you’re singing and dancing with randoms on your tabletop and ripping chicken off the bone like a caveperson. Or like me; going on the prowl for girls for some little weedy kid who isn’t even interested, when actually the prowling is for me.
Not gonna lie though, worst place to go to the toilet? Ever? Festivals. And where the fuck is Kenny (Australian comedian aka festival toilet guy) cos they always seem to overflow. And the ground is muddy. So you’re reeeeally not sure what you’re standing in. And when you actually make it in there it stinks, there’s shit, piss and toilet paper everywhere, sometimes vomit and cans of beer. And there’s no soap so you realise people have been shitting up a storm then touching their (I’m assuming) shit-hands all over everything. No wonder everyone takes drugs, you only have to pee like once or twice the whole time you’re there, its great!
Although I did witness a girl standing up and peeing against a tree at one festival. She totally thrusted it forward and I tell you, I was so impressed I wanted to high-5 her. But I figured I may not be able to trust any of her to be clean after that. And on later discussion realised maybe she was ‘cheating’ and was actually a transvestite that still had a penis. I didn’t get a look so can’t confirm or deny this..
Has anyone actually ever used those festival funnels for girls to pee in? I feel like seeing as it has a hose/tube, its the one opportunity we have to pee on someone’s leg for fun. Which actually doesn’t sound like fun. I guess with my basic knowledge of physics, seeing who can pee highest on a wall (yes, boys actually do that – note I said boys) is also out. Unless the tube end stayed lower than the funnel but the result is going to be a piss-poor effort (haha). I guess we’re just not meant to have fun while peeing.
I guess squatting in public is our version of fun with urine. And we generally remember those times, no matter how drunk we were. My favourites include peeing behind a clear perspex bus stop on a 6 lane road at night (another deer in headlights moment) where I continued to drunkenly stumble to a fuck buddies house at 3am, vomit in his toilet for half an hr, fall asleep next to him with vomit smell on my breath, then get picked up by an ex in the morning (who I ended up having sex with instead of this kind fuck buddy friend, damn I’m a bitch).
Or going to pee behind a skip bin with my cousin (chatting as we pissed, once again), who informs me afterwards that we actually pissed on someone’s front doorstep (whoops). In my defence it was very dark and there was like a thousand plants around the skip bin so I just found an area where there were no plants..
Or the time I went out with a bunch of guy friends, needed to pee, they pointed over to a hedge and fence and said just walk around there and pee, so I did. I came back to laughter and they told me I just pissed in the front courtyard of our good friends house (everything looks different when its dark and you’re drunk dammit!).
Nonsense Unicorn once had acid and was so freaked out at leaving our ‘safe room’ that she screamed all the way to the toilet and back hahahaha! To be fair it was an outhouse, and even once you got there the floor, walls and ceiling were all different colours. Cool to some, a freaky alive-and-breathing building to others. I got the breathing hut scenario, and I’ll guess from the screaming that she did too hahahaha! Oh man, gotta love acid.
Remember your hilarious pee adventures and just think, one day we’ll be old and civilised and won’t be getting up to mischief. Unless like me you’re planning to never grow up – peter pan for the win motherlickas!!
Ps. Turns out it was more of a list of short stories than an ode but what are you gonna do about it punk?! Poems don’t interest me in the slightest. *yawn*