The other day I was at a shopping center, and needed to pee. Nothing out of the ordinary there! After all, I often need to pee…well not often, I don’t have bladder problems, or weird kidneys – don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not like a running to the bathroom every two seconds thing, just you know sometimes – I just drink liquid, and then…it’s like…I think we are over-thinking this, can we please move on?
Ahem. So yeah, errr…I headed to the bathroom…
I walked past a guy leaning on the wall, who then decided he would tail me in…quite odd behaviour – I would have probably been more concerned was I not bursting so much to urinate. In fact, I would have definitely highlighted him in my peripheral vision as a possible lunatic, and taken the necessary steps (using a cubicle) so I wouldn’t have to deal with him. But the burning pain of the wee-wee clouded my judgment.
Instead I just picked a urinal (hate that word, I know you didn’t ask – but still, urgh), and got down to it. He was a starer…I could feel his eyes on me, you always can – I tried to man-oeuvre myself for minimum genital visibility, using a bit of coat, and left hand to provide some camouflage…but he didn’t give up – this whole process made my whole process stop, I couldn’t handle the pressure of the sudden audience I had…but I was strangely still desperate to go…if only he would stop staring this whole thing could be over with! I began to sweat, and shake – as the sharp shooting pains ran through my lower regions.
I changed tactic. I began to stare back at him, not like…at his…I wasn’t doing eye for an eye, I was staring at his eyeballs instead – I also coupled this with a look which I hoped said loud and clear; “I am not enjoying this little exchange, so can you kindly please stop staring at my penis, thank you ever so much, and good day!”
He turned away, the complete relief flooded out – I turned to read the advertisement on the board in front of me, something about hair-loss by the looks of it…I pondered whether I would ever get it done, will I go bald? I am not sure if-
“TWWWWEEEETTTT, CHIRRRUPPPP, TWEEET – TWEEET!”
I instantly spun around to face him again, he was smirking…what a psychopath…oh, hahahaha – let’s pick out a guy who is clearly dying to pee, and then torment him so that he can’t do it…let’s stare at him, let’s make strange weird noises, everything, anything – to drive him MENTAL.
I tried not to let him bother me, I stared into the other corner…imagined running water…visualised the wee-wee…
“TWWWWEEEETTTT, CHIRRRUPPPP, TWEEET – TWEEET!”
There he was again. And what could I do? I can’t exactly run up to a police officer, and announce “excuse me, this man…he won’t let me pee!” I mean, I certainly haven’t ever witnessed that on an episode of CSI – maybe they should do a story-line regarding that subject, make people aware that this stuff does happen, and it needs to STOP!
“TWWWWEEEETTTT, CHIRRRUPPPP, TWEEET – TWEEET!”
He turned to face me, smirked…and then headed out of the door, obviously didn’t wash his hands, but then again who has time to wash their hands in between creep sessions? He has a schedule to keep Godddamit!
But at last I was alone, at last I could pee in peace.
In that moment, I was on top of the world – had someone else been there, I may have attempted a high five…well actually, that would be very unhygienic, but you get my point – it was a simple pleasure, but an amazing one…it felt like a victory for some reason.
“TWWWWEEEETTTT, CHIRRRUPPPP, TWEEET – TWEEET!”
There he was again!?!?! As I was washing my hands, I looked around the corner, expecting to seem him perched there giggling to himself….I checked the cubicles…I began to wonder if I had imagined it all in some bizarre delusion…
“TWWWWEEEETTTT, CHIRRRUPPPP, TWEEET – TWEEET!”
That’s when I looked up, and saw a huge speaker with the words “BIRDS_RELAX_1”
Naturally I felt like a fool – but then I did the usual self protection of my ego, internally questioning as to why anyone would create such a device. Especially in a men’s bathroom…could there be anything more scary, and less relaxing, than a bird of prey circling a man with his err, manhood, out?
Pfft…well, at least I know for next time. Sorry for the hostile stares Mr. Creeper!
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John Lee Taggart 