How to Think Like a Woman and Pee Like a Man
A rumination on public bathrooms and other indignities of elimination lead to a surprising find.
I seem to be producing a new genre of Medium fare these days: potty-lit.
Last week, as I straddled an airline-cabin toilet bowl, I — who prefer the pronouns she and her — fretted. I imagined a day in the far-off future when I might not be able to pee standing up. Naturally, I wrote about it
“Old People Say the Darndest Things” was inspired, in part, by aging, in larger part, by having a sense of humor about it all.
This story, in contrast, is about why I prefer to pee like a man — and the surprising discovery I made once I decided to ponder this gender-fluid* practice.
(*Pun intended; others sprinkled throughout; I can’t help myself!)
Oh, and let me get this out of the way: As a kid, I was envious of my male cousin Ronnie but not, Dr. Freud, because he had a penis. He could aim.
But I digress. Stay with me, especially the ladies. Or, if you’re Lee Bench, who left this intriguing comment on my last bit of potty lit.
Sliding the biology and anatomy issues to the side…
