How I Pee Like No One Is Watching

There’s a reason “classy” is my middle name

Sarah Paris
it’s just foam

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A woman blows confetti from a book
How I feel when I empty my bladder. Photo by Paul_Stachowiak/Pixabay

My bladder is the size of a shriveled walnut.

I shudder to think of what old age will bring as currently, I have to relieve my tiny organ at least 12 times a day, and my water drinking habits don’t help — I love water and double the “8 glasses a day” suggestion. This is great for my skin, but terrible for road trips, hikes, and interacting with the general public.

When the walnut threatens to burst, I feel like I’m in the traumatizing bathroom scene in Trainspotting — I can, and most likely will, go anywhere.

If I’m driving and spot a plague-filled port-a-potty on the side of the road, it’s as if I’m seeing a mirage of paradise. I don’t care that said port-a-potty smells of death, fecal matter, and possibly meth. No problem. If it has a toilet, then I’m in heaven.

It’s not kosher to bring this matter up in most conversations, and my bladder doesn’t lend to my fantasy of class and sophistication, nor my imagined badass persona ala Michonne from The Walking Dead.

Nevertheless, I stand proud and tall in my ability to pee any and everywhere. My image and the approval of others matter for naught — I pee like no one is watching, even when to my regret, I may be forced to squat on the side of a…

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Sarah Paris
it’s just foam

Author of Signs My Toddler Has a Drinking Problem (humor collection).Freelance writer of all things. Looper features writer. Believer. Adventurer. Semi- funny.