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Proximity Urgency

What is it with men as they grow older?

E@L has done a few re-usable bags worth of shopping and is walking back from the Cold Storage supermiddling-market, hands full, not sure which pocket houses the key.

As he turns into his street, he feels a pressure. Mm-hmm. Need a piss, pretty soon. Water is tinkling in the open drain. Since an operation on his inflamed appendix (the pain, can still remember, OMFG) when he was 14, E@L has not had a terrific amount of power over his bladder, it's true. Maybe some nerve was damaged during the operation, which may be difficult to prove seeing as how the innervation of the bladder is retro-peritoneal. Ha, you knew that already didn't you? Aha, you forget that the caecum (and hence the appendix) is retroperotineal as well! No, they're not you reply, leafing through your 1901 edition of Grays! OK, let's not argue. Just allow us to admit that we do not have remember the anatomical knowledge to back any medical excuse for it... but let us admit, too, that...

E@L's bladder is pissweak.

He hasn't won a non-metaphorical pissing up the wall contest since grade-school. No pressure, can't force it, must rely on gravity. And peace and quiet. And whistling, and 7-times tables. And nobody nearby.

But when it comes to arriving at home the valves start to loosen. There is a built-in homing device in his kidneys which triggers the gears and pulleys which start the whole pissing sequence into inexorable action.

By the time E@L is at the driveway, his brain has received these proximity signals and has told his bladder, "It's OK dude, we're HOME!"

He has to immediately scream at his brain, "SHUT THE FUCK UP BRAIN!!" He tries to placate his bladder, to mediate a truce here.

"Bladder, listen, I'm serious. There's Mrs Wong from #03-27B with her little kids, I can't walk past them with a damp crotch (why did I wear pale color shorts?) You've gotta hold out, you gotta keep it in... just give me a few more minutes..."

E@L can feel things pushing anyway, his bladder must be stupid. So he squeezes his pelvic floor diaphragm tight, but it feels like something is really threatening. He gets to the steps, no time to swipe the card and then wait for the lift, for woo-ho, a storm is coming in his underpants. Limps up, still knee issues: the bouncing from rise to rise is doing things, unpleasant things to the feeling of pressure.

He is at the door, bags down, keys, which pocket? Hurry. HURRY!

Brain: What are you waiting for bladder? I told you we're home! It will feel soooooo nice to just let it flow... let it stream... let it run home to sea...

Bladder: Uhhr, OK, I'll sta...


Door latch, open door, groceries strewn over the floor, rushing to the bathroom, he can feel that things are on the move, the drought has broken, a flash flood is inevitable...

To the toilet, seat up, no time for fossicking for the zipper, this is a zipless piss, pants down just as the first burst ... dribbles out. A meagre splashing. Urgency, false hopes.

It's no longer a case of how far up the wall, he is happy just to get past the toes of his shoes...

OK, he made it this time, but how long before he has to depend upon Depends?

Growing old... Love it. Not.



Posted by: expat@large on Jun 10, 07 | 1:28 pm | Profile


You're adorable hun! Simply adorable.

Posted by: VirginPornStar on Jun 10, 07 | 4:04 pm

I enjoyed that very much. Quite a relief. As somebody once observed good pissing is wasted on the young.

Posted by: Dick on Jun 10, 07 | 11:30 pm

well, i can't even think about walking out the door without having to take a piss first...all thos years of reminding the children to "go before we leave"


Posted by: savannah on Jun 11, 07 | 1:32 am

hahaha! love the convo between brain, bladder and your good self!

Posted by: valkyrie on Jun 13, 07 | 3:06 am

People! This is serious!

Posted by: expat@large on Jun 13, 07 | 8:22 pm


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