Musings of a Drunken Monk: Individual Entry Archive

Earlier this week, I had an unfortunate run-in with nighttime stupidity. Being that my eyes are rather sensitive to sudden changes in brightness (read: hurts like hell when you turn on the lights), I tend to go to the bathroom at night without the light on. Normally, this proves completely effective, as I have not only good aim, but I can usually see enough to ensure "pissing validity."

On this particular night, about three quarters of the way through my "natural process," I got this sneaking sensation that something wasn't right. I finished, shook off, and made the decision to follow my instinct. Manfully braving the pain, I turned on the light and squinted back into my bathroom.

Not only had I missed the toilet, but I had managed to pee just about everywhere but the toilet. It's like there was a bathroom wildfire and I was trying to spray it down with overzealous use of my own urine. I had even gotten my slippers and my leg.

How did this happen? I asked myself whilst cleaning the disaster site. Luckily my bathroom is small and easy to clean, and my thought processes are relatively quick, so I shortly arrived at a conclusion: my penis was on backwards. That's obviously the only logical explanation.

Peeing in my bathroom isn't an exact science, especially at night. Many guys can use the "splashing method" to determine if they've hit the toilet's "sweet spot." You know, splash splash, ah, I've hit the water, now I just hold steady on that spot. I cannot use the same method. My bathroom is at the front of my apartment building, with a window that opens onto the walkway for two other apartments. Not only this, but there is another house (with connected soba restaurant) a mere 20 feet away. Believe me, the splashing method is quite loud, and while at 2am there probably aren't any soba customers nor any other people awake, I still have developed the habit of making as little noise during urination as possible. My closest neighbor is female, and I'm just a bit squeamish about her hearing my tinkle. And there's also the fact that any tiny sound in the middle of the night sets off the dog from hell next door who will continue to bark until dawn. So I must aim by sheer skill, practice, and luck alone.

I returned to bed with clean pajamas but still a broken man. In spite of my self-loathing, I learned something that night:

Make sure it's on the right way at all times.

Oh, right, and pee with the lights on.