My Entire Life Revolves Around a Urinal

Shortly after posting my honest pee-pee story, my high school chum Brad called. He was laughing. He knows my pee-pee problems.

In high school, Brad, Gary, Danny and I would race to the senior hallway men’s room after gym class and take our appropriate space in front of the line of urinals. Mine was third from the right. Then–and I’m still not sure why we ever thought this was a good idea–we would race to see who could finish first. Or maybe we raced to see to see who could pee the longest. These things are hazy and I can’t remember the rules. Nevertheless, it was a welcome diversion from gym class. I liked gym, but was always afraid to bare my poofy nipples in front of a locker room full of flat-nippled men.

My experience in front of the third urinal from the right set a precendent in my life. It is one of loyalty.

I almost can’t make myself go unless I’m standing in front of the thrid urinal from the right. If there are only two…I take the farthest one to the right. If I go anywhere else, I feel like I’m cheating on my urinal.

I have transferred this loyalty to the pee-pot to my social life. Once I have a steady friend or woman, I do my best not to stray or break that trust. And when I do, I feel very guilty. The few times I’ve broken a sacred trust (read: Genivieve/Marty, Kelly/Attitude, and that girl named Amy from an party during a doomed relationship with a now ex-girlfriend…all the fourth urinals from the right) I have never forgiven myself.

The only problem with my Urinal Loyalty…Brother Beaker. Many years ago, he set out a list of rules for how men should behave in the rest room. It is a simple system of rest room etiquette. I’ll let him lay out the rules for you. Suffice it to say, it often conflicts with my loyalties. I believe in his system, but I have a hard time sticking to it.

We all struggle to find meaning in our lives. Most of us fail in one way or another. But I have a few rules by which I do my best to live…be honest, be loyal to your true friends, and dance with the one who brung ya.

And if that means breaking a few social rules to stick by my urinal…well, then so be it.