I am in the bathroom staring at the wall. The wall was made of that stucco stuff that is spattered on the dry wall, giving it a texture. I scan the wall, looking hard for a pattern that I can focus on. After about ten seconds, I find one. I treat the pattern as I would when looking at a cloud on a lazy summer afternoon. And the pattern on the wall changes into something that relaxes me (though I want to keep this post at a PG-13 rating, so I won’t say that the pattern looked like two people having sex). As soon as my mind was focused, things began to flow.

So, why did I bring this up? Well, I needed a topic to talk about and I thought it was funny that I would think of that when peeing. But, I did have conflict about this. Truth is, it is not a real issue to me. But I need to verify that I am not going to “trigger” some Cal State Berkeley blogger into a hissy fit. So, I decided to look it up to see if there is actually a condition. And, sure enough, the psychology profession has made some crap up. Probably to drum up more business (oh, God, I may have set off a trigger. Oh, well, I went to Cal State Northridge. Go Matadors!).

It is called paruresis (better known as shy bladder syndrome). It is a social phobia and their is even a group studying it (the International Paruresis Association). It is a safety issue with these folks since their psychological condition will physically stop them for urinating. They do not feel safe in public places and, sometimes, private places. It is usually caused by some sort of traumatic event such as sexual or physical abuse (all of the above is from WebMD.com).

OK. I feel bad. But I do not suffer from that. I do not like to pee in front of men (is that homophobic? I don’t think so. But maybe there is some subliminal thing I don’t know about. I’ll check out WebMD.com later).

I do know where it started and I do know when I started using the pee spot to relax enough to let loose. So, where did it start?

I love hockey. I am a huge Los Angeles Kings fan. When I was in high school, I would go to hockey games because tickets were really cheap (this was the pre-Gretzky era and the Kings sucked…sucked bad). I paid $5 for a ticket and would go a few times a month (cheaper than a movie). The Kings (and the Lakers, when they were good) used to play at the Inglewood Forum. The neighborhood sucked, the stadium sucked, the parking sucked, the traffic sucked, the Kings sucked…and so did the bathrooms.

The bathrooms at the Forum were made up of troughs. If you have not had the dubious opportunity to visit an old stadium, imagine the container that horses would drink water in the old western movies. Now imagine the same thing but ten feet longer and made of steel. That is where men pee’d at the end of each period.

It was a miserable experience. Especially for me. I am pretty short and I would have a guy to my right and left, both usually 6’7″ tall, their hips rubbing against my shoulders, letting loose. Though I never took a look to confirm, I am sure they had to be more well-endowed than myself and, as most teenagers, I was not the most secure. Mix that with my fear the results that some of these fire hoses might have is the power to ricochet off the rather shallow trough and I end up with a shower that people usually have to pay someone good money for (though that usually includes plastic tarps and a motel room). Is it any wonder that I have issues concentrating?

So I started staring at the wall and finding something to concentrate on. And I do it every time I pee.

This was a random thought and probably more than you wanted to know about me, but there you have it.

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metrolinktrains.com
tickpick.com
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www.wikiwand.com
allthingsd.com
hockey-blog-in-canada.blogspot.com