This item is, I must confess, a repeat from quite a while ago. It has undergone a few alterations, I shall say in my defence. And anyway, it’s Wendy’s birthday today so I’ve been busy doing dutiful domestic stuff.
I posted an item on Facebook the other day that ascertained that if you are driving your car on the freeway and have to pee so badly you are on the verge of wetting yourself, your mental state at such a time of duress is the same as being impaired by alcohol.
It must be true since the finding was the result of academic research and academic research is always infallible – right?
How do they test the pee urgency-booze equation? I have no idea and probably don’t need to know.
I do know that if a body has been out somewhere and the urge to void has struck, then walking to the door of house or apartment and inserting the key will instantly increase the desperation 10 thousandfold. There’s even a clinical name for it. It’s called ‘latch-key urgency.’
Human beings are very shy about their functioning, I’ve found. It’s odd, really, since we all do it a number of times a day, but don’t want others to know about it if it can possibly be avoided.
A female friend told me of how she wet her pants in elementary school because she was embarrassed to tell the teacher (and the entire class) she needed to go. Yet, I daresay the mortification of peeing herself in public was surely much greater than simply raising her hand and getting up and leaving the room.
But, people do things to avoid letting others know that they either need to spend a penny or are in the process of voiding at any particular moment. Some folks, women especially, will turn on the faucet and run the water so that nobody can hear their tinkle hit the water in the toilet. This is a situation that rarely applies to males. Let’s face it, we pee at urinals and on trees. It’s virtually public domain stuff for guys.
It has been said that one of the marks of royalty is an infinite capacity for not needing to use the toilet. In that context the Queen consumes very few liquids when she’s out and about.
“I say, hold off on the opening of Parliament, chaps, I must whiz like a racehorse!” No, it just wouldn’t do.
And, with my perverse mind, I have sometimes wondered when people get trapped in an elevator for hours and hours how it is decided where to pee and who is brave enough to bring up the subject first.
Come on, you’ve wondered that, too.
And that’s the end of this pissy topic.