WHEN YOU GOTTA GO…

To wee or not to wee. That is the half a million dollar question.

The simple task of taking a piss has turned political, with Sydney City Liberal Councillor Edward Mandla expressing his concerns about where you should express your urine when it comes to being out and about in the CBD.

This is in response to a plan to spend $500,000 installing alfresco wee booths where men-folk have been known to use alleyways, doorways and gutters to relieve themselves after a night out on the… well…piss.

 

pop-up-urinalA pop-up urinal.
 

Edward is not happy.

“These are open-air disgusting things. When you are legless and need to urinate you will do it anywhere.”

Edward is concerned.

“This money would be better spent on letting people know there is more to do in our local government area than drink.”

Edward is not a pervert.

“Passers-by would be looking at me. It’s a miserable idea. Exposing one’s private parts is against the law. This encourages breaking that law.”

Now, I am not sure about you, but I have wandered the city streets the morning after the night before, and let me give you the hot tip. It smells like an overflowing latrine. The stench of urine lands an assault on your nostrils like a slap across the face. It is in these instances one must resort to breathing through one’s nose.

And unless you are a complete sucker for punishment, avoid bus stop shelters altogether. Ditto train stations.

Isn’t it nice that there might be an option for those who need to drain the main vein to keep the bladder gladder?

Sydney Lord Mayor Clover Moore thinks so.

“I don’t think they are attractive but they have been very useful in collecting urine.”

Never a truer word has been spoken Lord Mayor. Toilets ARE very useful in collecting urine. And as they say, when you gotta go…

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Being the mum of two small boys, I know first-hand of the panic when you look down and see one of your kids doing the dance of dread. You know the signs! Fidgeting, hands over the crotch before doing some desperate running on the spot.

It comes down to fate as to where you are.

Shopping Centre? No worries. Park? Plenty of trees. On the city streets surrounded by tall office blocks? Well, little boy… Keep dancing.

But imagine if, like a shimmering mirage, one of these freestanding piss stations appeared in front of you? Crisis averted.

You would not have to relive a childhood horror that haunts me regularly – 36 years after the fact.

The scene: A busy suburban shopping strip with me sitting in the front seat of our green Toyota Hi-Ace.

The mission: Mum had left me and my siblings while she ducked into the butchers. Mum is very social and spends time doing Mum-talk with people.

My bladder: Full to overflowing.

need-to-pee!

I recall being desperately unhappy, but remembered Mum’s words ringing in my ears. “Stay in the car and I will buy you a White Knight…” I was indeed a very big fan of a White Knight and was not willing to risk my chance of missing out on the pepperminty chocolate treat.

The day was stinking hot, I will tell you that for free, and the flies and the heat and the full bladder and the siblings in the back fighting, and Mum taking FOREVER… and the trauma…

Then the sweet, sweet relief.

Back in those days, Toyota Hi-Aces had bucket seats. Mum returned with her mince and three White Knights to find me sitting blissfully in a pool of warm wee.

And it is this dramatic event that leads me to the conclusion that we should all, not just men, but all citizens of our country be free to pee – should the occasion present itself – in plentiful public toilets.

So I ask you, Edward Mandla, who are you to tell us the right way to see a man about a dog? I say let the rivers run, and preferably not down the streets.

 

Shouldn’t we provide drunken lads with thoughtful places to pee?

 

 

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mrs woog*About Mrs Woog: “I can be found in the laundry, folding laundry, sorting laundry and dropping off the dry cleaning. I am mum to two boys, boss of my husband and master of a cat and two guinea pigs. Come nightfall, I watch TV while tweeting which drives Mr Woog insane. I like to read cookbooks and eat out. During my waking hours I ferry kids around in the Mazda while drinking takeaway coffees and listening to talkback. I think about going to the gym every day. I used to work in the publishing industry before I realised it was nothing like Elaine Benes from Seinfeld made out like it was. Now I write this blog. And I never get writer’s block. It is a gift I have.” You can follow me on Twitter: @Woogsworld.

 

   

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