Wednesday, January 05, 2005


To Pee, Or Not To Pee. . .

Did you really think I could title this anything else?

I pondered this a bit when pleasure muse Witty Sex Kitten (and let me just congratulate myself here because, so far, I have managed to catch it every time I accidentally type Wild Sex Kitten by mistake) first brought it up, but I never quite got to it. The fact that it happened again spurred me to slothful action.

Sharing a bathroom has never been high on my priorities of things to do before I die. As an only child, I was fortunate enough to never have to share. Even during the marriage years, she got the “guest” bathroom (bigger mirror, more counter space) and I got the illogically punier “master” bath. Which was fine with me. The sick part is this. Even living alone, my habit was to lock the door. She finally cured me of this by appealing to logic. What if something happened to me while I was in there, and she couldn’t get in because it was locked? So I guess she had a point. After all, something like that happened when I was younger. Ask me later if you really need the details. And so I gave up that one little bit of my irrational prudery and got used to it.

But I never got used to sharing. And made a pretty consistent effort to avoid it, even in the new place, which only had one bathroom. I made a brief mention somewhere (a quick one-liner, I’m definitely not going to look for it) of a certain experiment in the physics of aiming, just to prove a point, but that was the exception that proved the rule.

So I would have to say that I’m pretty much against “performing” with an audience. I had always thought that unless you were “into” that sort of thing (and yes, this time I do mean it that way, ya pervs), you were pretty solidly against it. WSK’s experience has proven me wrong. My theory that Mr. Marine may have become adjusted to common facilities doesn’t appear to apply to VB#1.

Of course, none of this explains why I didn’t mind so much being a puke assistant.

I should also say that it’s not all potty talk over there. Witty Sex Kitten wrote about her Vegas New Year’s adventure here. You go look now!

She also held forth on modern feminist issues here. You go look now! Yes, even you men. It’s not painful to read, I promise you.

Plus, she can pull a mean Bull Durham quote out of her ass (and no, not that way, ya pervs!). So how cool is that?
Aren't you cute! Thanks for the tip LF!

Yes I'm really not sure what causes the drive to make men do this in front of me. Maybe I give off some "pee in front of me" vibe. Let's be logical about this and find the causal connection. Maybe it is because both times have involved alcohol use? Who knows. I didn't ever think this was going to become a reoccuring problem in my life but if it is in mine, it must be in other women's. Must work on the educating angle to cure the problem, I guess ;-)

But it is good to know men who don't find this appropriate exist.

How tall are you btw...*grin*
Now that I think of it, lots of drinking can lead to lots of peeing, frequently, sometimes ridiculously frequently. Maybe he just couldn't wait any longer. Could it be the case that he had waited a long time, as long as he could, until he got you back to the room, because he was afraid you might get poached while he was in the Hard Rock restroom or something?

Or maybe they were both tipsy enough not to realize or care what they were doing.

In any event, I don't think it would be mean to tell VB#1 how you feel. It can only help him with future women. And almost every guy can use at least a little good advice on how to get along with women. Think of it this way, if you just finished lunch, and you noticed your companion had spinach stuck in his teeth, you'd tell him, and while it might be briefly embarrassing, he would appreciate it.

As for the other, I'm actually over the limit rather than under.
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