Tinkled Toes

EiwThis week and next are insanely busy for me, so you’ll have to forgive my sparse posting.

As you probably know, last week we went camping. It was a great week, but one of the things you notice more when you’re away is how often you go to the restroom. I’m actually on a blood pressure medicine that causes me to be quite the tinkle fairy. I go at least once every 90 minutes. It’s pathetic. I’m also one of the few men in the planet that washes their hands when they use the toilet, and the tired old electric hand dryer made for a lengthy potty time. (That thing took FOREVER to dry hands, half the time I just wiped my hands on my pants after washing them…)

This post is not about the hand dryer though. That irritation is nothing compared to one old man in the urinal next to me.

First of all, all men understand the basic public restroom etiquette. It’s instilled into us genetically. There should never have been an old man in the urinal next to me.

The problem started while I was doing my business. The offending old person clearly knew I was there. I’m a 6 foot tall 190 pound man. I was wearing a bright orange SpongeBob t-shirt. I’m hard to miss. Well, I thought I was hard to miss…

This man rushes to the urinal right next to me, and begins making “I have to pee really bad” noises. This violates several men’s room rules by itself, but the old man begins to haphazardly urinate wildly about his urinal space, and actually begins to SPLASH MY LEGS with his own piddle!!!

I had no idea what to do. I scooched over as far as possible, and hurried as best I could. When splashy splasherton was finally finished, I just stood there in shock. In retrospect, I still don’t know how I could have made the situation any better. I mean, I couldn’t even kill the man, because that would have brought attention to my motive: Wet leg.

The only good news is that campground restrooms have showers built into them. I walked directly from the urinal to the shower (grabbing some hand soap from the dispenser along the way), and proceeded to shower my legs.

Eiw.

6 thoughts on “Tinkled Toes

  1. I’m thinking there had to be a bet involved here, as in, “hey, I’ll give you ten bucks if you go in there and whiz on that guy.” Unreal!

  2. I wonder if the poor old guy just had some prostate issues or something. My dad gets downright desperate at times…I think its medication related as well. Poor you, though…

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