Midnight Mishap

I woke up. Eyes blurry, mouth dry, feet cold, and an extreme urge to piss. My feet were colder than usual. My eyes were blurrier than normal. There was something off about this all. Maybe I was dreaming. "Yes, it must be one of those weird dreams I often have", I thought.

Placebo's Autoluminescent played in the back of my head.

"I am blinding

I am white heat

I am heaven-sent

I was a nightmare

But I'm not gonna go there

Again"

And for a verse, for a quick instant, I tricked myself into believing I was asleep. Sweet little lies we tell the kids so they fall asleep. To our friends, so they don't ache. To our dying mothers, that tomorrow everything will be alright. Oh, sweet little white lies. If only they were true. If only everything would be fine tomorrow. If only the heartache would die with a beer and tequila. If only the monsters under our beds would let us dream away the shadows of the night.

Brian Molko continued whispering:

"Into the black hole

The house of no contest

Make mine a meteor

Rise me above the rest

I'm soaring through outer space

There is no better place

To be"

I rubbed my eyes with my semi-numb hands to see if they could focus. If I was in dreamland, I wanted to see where I was. Would I see my mom this time? Perhaps, my cat Pelucha would be sitting by my feet looking up. I rubbed my eyes again. Nothing. It was all darkness. Just pitch back. Where the fuck was I this time?

I stopped rubbing my eyes as this was obviously not working. My feet were freezing now. The empty coldness was not only eating out my feet but, was extending to all the other parts of my body, my legs, hands, nose, and heart. This wasn't your normal dream or nightmare. This was something else. This was perhaps, reality?

I moved my hands around trying to feel my way around this place I was in. I soon touched a wall. Or was it a door? "Where am I? Fuck, Am I awake?" I went to bed. I was in bed. I was out with friends. I drank, they left, I had two more pints of beer and, called an Uber. I got home and went straight to bed. I must be dreaming. I should be in bed. 

I soon found a light switch on the wall in front of me. I pushed it and the light hurt more than any hangover has ever hurt. I was outside my apartment. In the middle of the night. Wearing just a T-shirt. No underwear, because I read many years ago that it is not healthy for men to sleep with boxers or trunks as they do not let the balls rest after spending all day locked up in a fabric prison. So since I can remember, I have always slept just with a T-shirt and no trunks. Fuck, and I needed to take a piss!

What was I doing outside my apartment in the middle of the night? No keys, no phone. no one to ask for help! And a full bladder did not help. I had to do something to empty it so that I could continue to think of a solution to my very unfortunate situation.

I decided to go out of the building and baptize the flowerbed of the Slovak neighbor who took over all of the tenants' garden lots. He was a 30-something Slovak guy who lived on the first floor and was on paternity leave. His wife sported the same haircut as he. I often mistook the wife for the guy until I realized the one holding the baby was the husband. I never crossed more than a good morning or a good evening with either of them. 

I opened the door to the street and immediately realized that if I went out I would be half naked and locked out of the building in the middle of the night. I looked for something to keep the door from closing. I didn't need to make things worse just cuz I had to piss. I was already in one hell of a situation. I didn't need to make things even more surreal. What was I going to tell everyone in the morning? I didn't even know what time it was. I guess I wanted to urinate and I woke up and walked to the toilet, and by mistake opened the wrong door, which is strategically located opposite the entrance door. who designed this fucking apartment. I had a big complaint.

I found a cardboard box my neighbors use for the junk mail. "This might work out", I thought. I grabbed the box and placed it so that the door wouldn't close behind me. I did all this from the inside of the building. Once I saw It would hold the door open, I slowly pulled the door open and slid through the opening not applying any force to the door to cause it to slam it shut behind me while taking a leak.

Once outside, I didn't need to take my cock out of my pants as I was not wearing any. It was a freeing experience given the situation. I had never had the opportunity of pissing on someone's flowerbed out in the open, even if it was deep into the night. God knows what time it was. And I wasn't ready to ask either. All I could think about was if anyone had spiked up my drink, or if I had become a sleepwalker.

Before I was finished, I saw people coming my way. Probably going home to their bed after a night out in the pub with their friends. Shit!, I need to finish now, otherwise, they will see me half-ass naked pissing on this Slovak guy's flowerbed, this is something I do not want people to know about, at least not firsthand. it's always better when you tell people a story and add certain humor to it so that it becomes less disgusting or real. 

Placebo kept on playing somewhere and it was not in my head and I could relate to their lyrics:

"Into the darkness

I gave away myself

Slipped on the spiral stairs

Tumbling down the well

I fell on a soft spot

I'm white heat, I'm white hot

Again

Again..."

I ran inside without even shaking it. I didn't want the situation I was in to worsen. I wanted this nightmare to end and to wake up in my bed. With my cats. To make things even more grim my better half was in the mountains skiing, hundreds of kilometers away from me. And my cats never mastered the skill of door opening on command. Wasted time owning cats and never teaching them useful tricks.

To make the story short, I ran back inside and decided to knock at my neighbor's door. Hoping they would open. And they did. After a short introduction to the problem, my neighbor invited me into his flat. gave me a fresh pair of boxers, water, and a chair to sit on. He began calling locksmiths to see who would pick up the tab. After an hour of trying and getting to know each other, one guy replied and said he would arrive in 30 minutes. 

We talked about our childhoods, and how it was for me coming to his country. I had never had such a long conversation in Czech with anyone as I did with him. His wife was in their bedroom with their infant boy trying to sleep while I spoke Czech and sipped on water and hoped a locksmith would answer and come and help me get home. I was sitting 4 meters away from my own home. It was terrible I couldn't just go home and sleep this off.

We continued talking about our lives and why I had ended up in his country. If I had suffered any type of discrimination, and If I like their food. Our jobs, hobbies, and musical preferences. The locksmith arrived. He took out a strange device and opened my apartment's door in less than 3 seconds.

I walked in, walked towards my bedroom, picked up my phone, and headed to the door to pay the guy for his service. I thanked my new friend and neighbor for the help and closed the door behind me. This time I made sure I closed the door standing on the right side of it. Praying to the Lord above to never happen to me ever again. At least, I had peed and could go back to bed to live until the next morning and hope nobody other than those living across from me would ever know.

Hrms Etc

11.6.24

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