A Pissing Nightmare

It was December 31st. Everyone was ready to party and ready to leave the year 2017 behind. It had been a year that took so much away from us. Not only had a bunch of people committed suicide, but the year's political and social events had taken a toll on everyone, including me.

I was already sipping on my second vodka with peach juice. There was something about this juice that reminded me of home, my long time forsaken home. The sugar and added chemicals of this particular brand of beverage always reminded me of my years in high school. I guess I was happy to have found this particular drink, to mix with the Russian vodka leftovers from one of the summer parties we had had.

Everyone was grouped already, and several things were being discussed. Politics, music, and generally shit. I was trying to find the right moment for me to laugh, giggle, of sigh. it was like I was looking for a cue of sort of to interact in a natural way, just to make it till midnight, or until everyone was drunk and possibly high to stop pretending to be the way they all wanted or expected me to be.

I remember looking at my phone, just to see the time. To see if my predictions on when would the people around me would become tipsy or even drunk. Just to see how much longer I would have to be there.

My glass was suddenly empty. I moved like a shadow into the kitchen and refilled my tall glass with the potato distillate of the land of the Czars and the saccharine solution we all called juice back home. I didn't even need ice cubes. My drink was perfectly chilled and ready to be gulped down. It didn't really matter. I would pissed it eventually. And I would power walk the carbohydrates left in my system not to gain more weight. Yes, I had began walking a couple of months ago, and I had began seeing the results. At least, I would sleep better, without acid reflux. A good night sleep was what I had secretly longed for already many years.

I went back to my assumed position in the party. My group was still talking about things I didn't understand, or secretly didn't want to.

"So, we heard you didn't have any friends", someone fired away

"Uh, I do have friends", I said

"Good", a girl standing to my right said

"I have friends, they just don't live here" I continued, "they are scattered all over the world, one lives in Germany, another one lives in Rio and there is one in Mexico, so I do have friends, they are my best friends, we just don't see each other as often as we would like"

"Why don't you have friends here?". A guy mumbled across from where I was standing

"It is difficult to connect with people with whom I don't share anything in common with", I said

"That sounds a bit weird, don't you think?", another girl asked me

"It does, I guess, but when you have decided to live things ahead of what you are supposed to, it makes perfect sense. You lose proximity with the rest of the people, but gain a stronger bond with those, who like me, have chosen their own path in life, rather than following what is expected from them, socially".

I was having a conversation with the people in the group of party goers. It wasn't a very productive talk, I gathered. However, I was interacting. But after so many Vodka drinks, my bladder was totally full and I needed to relieve it from such burden.

I sneaked away from the living room and headed towards the toilet.

As I opened the door, I found myself in a huge room, which was barely lit and had lots of gigantic mirrors above the sinks. Around the place where one is supposed to wash after doing their business  —or like me, before actually doing anything, because to be honest, I do not remember all the places where my hands have been— there were the urinals and cabins. 

All the cabins were in a pretty deplorable state. There walls, all sported punch holes, and some of them were falling apart.

I tried to find one with the best cover, as I am a very shy individual and at least when pissing, I like my privacy.

Once I did, I began to unzip my pants. 

But for some reason, lots of guys came into the toilets and began searching for a place where to get rid of all their alcoholic urine. So in question of seconds, before I had even start, a guy was pounding on the door of the cabin I was in, shouting: "hey, come one, I need to piss".

I saw how the other cabins on the right and on the left became occupied and I could see the guys staring at me while they pissed their beer and their liquors. I couldn't even start. I was a shy motherfucker trapped inside a toilet cabin, being watched and being expected to finish pissing real soon.

"What a nightmare", I thought to myself.

Hermes Coldwell

31.12.2017

Yucatan Is Not Always In Mexico

Rock music buzzed in my ears. The table I was at, was filthy and full of semi empty shot glasses of various spirits. Ash and empty packs of cigarettes decorated the flat surface of the cheap table of this bar called Yucatan. I had had many beers and shots of tequila, vodka and sometimes my own spit, in a vain attempt to keep my insides in.

Little Sister was on the loud speakers. The beat of the song made me bang my head to its rhythm in a somewhat slow motion kinda way. I needed to piss. I knew the lyrics to Little Sister as I knew what our ritualistic night would be all about, beer, tequila shots, both silver and gold, vodka chasers and beer all over again. Packs of cigarettes would disappear after the first round of cold golden non-filtered ale.

I stood up and bumped away the people sitting next to me. A loud bang followed by broken glass and cold beer splashing the floors and my shoes.This made me rush towards the urinals of this god forsaken pub. I had to piss now.

I stepped in the men's room and with my right hand tried to look for the light switch. Once I'd found it a buzzing sound came up and then a white light showed me the way. I unzipped and took my cock out. I was trying so hard to concentrate. I heard another song being played outside on the jukebox. It was another song by the Queens of the Stone Age. I could tell. I had all the albums on my ipod.

There were three urinals and I chose to piss in the last one as I never liked to use the one in the middle. The idea of having two other dudes pissing next to me was somewhat weird. I was still trying to gather the strength to get rid of the unnecessary urine in my bladder. I was trying so hard it hurt.

Then I saw this number written on the adjacent wall. It was a phone number and under it it read: "call me if you want me to blow you". What the hell, I thought, who would actually call this number. What if I call to see who is on the other side?. Fuck. Why was I even thinking of calling this number?. What if it was only a prank played to some dude and he didn't even know his phone had been advertised with such a service. It had to be a prank, there was no price listed. Who would do that for free?, especially to anyone pissing at this place?

I began to piss. What a relief. It was wonderful to finally be able to get rid of this. This place stank, but my piss was in great amount a mix of tequila, vodka and beer. I need to buy food for tomorrow. It's New Year's Eve and everything will be closed. Fuck, I need more cigarettes and maybe I will drink one more beer.

A slow song began to play. I zipped up and moved to the sink. I washed my hands and dried them on the back of my black sweatshirt. I was back at the table with my friends and the drinks were plenty.

Hrms Etc

31.12.12