On Pants and Pee, an Inhuman Injustice
Public urination is over-stigmatized, and the social and legal demands that we wear clothing are draconian and prudish.
I am a person who has to pee quite regularly, frequently even, excessively, some might say. So far as I know, there is no issue with my bladder, liver, or kidneys at the root of this. God, I hope not. I drink a lot of water. I do a lot of exercise and don’t drink anything other than water (excepting coffee and tea in the morning and evening respectively), so I drink a lot of it, roughly a gallon a day. Water flows in and out of me like a stream. Naturally, there have been times throughout the course of my water-circulating days, that I have needed to pee at inopportune times or while in inhospitable venues. These times have been dire. It is a horrible thing, to know desperately that you need to pee, and that you could, anywhere, it would be so easy, but for you being “allowed” to, but for it being “inappropriate,” or an “act of public indecency” qualifying as a “borderline sex crime.” Everybody has to pee, often, all the time, right now. The fact that we are forced to go to specifically designated places to do so is a problem, and that there is such a lack of these places publicly accessible is a travesty.
It is a common plight, being out somewhere, usually in the city, but just as terrible if not more so in a suburban neighborhood, and having a pressing, unignorable need to urinate, but having nowhere available, or more galling, places that deny their availability, that refuse you access. Can you imagine a greater cruelty: shuffling your way along sun-beaten streets with sweat pouring off you and the feeling that your full-to-bursting bladder will erupt like a spheroidal stick of dynamite and take you with it, you go into restaurants and stores, beg them for the use of their facilities, and they deny you, you who are on death’s door and asking for but a bit of human compassion, for acknowledgment of shared humanity, and the right to piss in their toilet? You probably have little trouble imagining it. Unless you’re the kind of beautiful, cute, charming, non-threatening person who is allowed to do whatever you ask because every schlubby civilian that sets eyes on you is immediately smitten and determined to please and appease you. Lucky fucking you. The whole world tripping over our feet for you. Aren’t you something. You make me sick. I love you.
The majority of bathrooms the world over, with scant exceptions, should be open and available to all. Failing that, or until the point that public bathrooms are ubiquitous, we should be permitted to pee whenever we want, not necessarily wherever we want, but definitely whenever and wherever we need to. Not saying that you should whip it out, squat, or lift a leg in the middle of a sidewalk or under the awning of a fine dining establishment where the city’s elites are all lined up and dolled up, ready to enjoy a meal that will in cost rival the average person’s monthly grocery bill and in flavor and quality be as pearls beside rabbit turds. Then again, it wouldn’t be the worst thing if those people were peed upon.
Next up: Clothes. I don't much care for clothes. I can appreciate fashion and a sense of style as much as any other hetero-cis-man whose most common go-to outfit is a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, though generally I think it’s mostly silly, a waste of money, time, attention, and resources. Not to mention often the product of human rights abuses and environmental degradation. But the standard which demands that we wear clothes, and stipulates what kinds of clothes we should wear, I do not care for one damn bit.
Clothes are, from a practical sense, fine, I guess. If you are in a cold climate, then it is right and good that you should wear thick, warm clothing, hats, gloves, and all that. And if you are walking on terrain that will be harsh on the soles of your feet, terrain of asphalt, snow, pointy rocks, broken glass, or acre upon acre swarming with fire ants and wasp nests, then by all means put on some shoes. But the clothing we wear, in most cases and conditions, is unnecessary and cumbersome.
Why, for example, should we be required, whether by professional statute or cultural pressure, to wear long sleeve shirts and long pants when it is not cold? What sick sadomasochistic tendency exists in us as a culture that it is viewed as not only normal, but expected, required even, for people to wear suits and ties on an urban summer day?
Oh, and let’s talk about ties for a moment. There are few articles of clothing more pointless, stupid, and expressive of self-loathing than ties. Fortunately, I have not yet had a job which has required my wearing a tie, and I’ve only worn them for formal occasions and job interviews. A tie is a dangling, flamboyant noose. A tie serves no purpose. The only thing a tie is capable of, is getting caught in the door of a car or train, thus leading to its owner’s strangulation.
I’ve heard the view expressed, often by men regarding other men, that they should not wear shorts. The logic there being that men don’t have good looking legs and so should cover them up. Yes, a lot, probably most, men have ugly legs. I’ll concede that. But also, fuck you. Don’t tell me what to wear. I could give a fuck if you don’t like the sight of my jacked and hirsute thighs and calves. Stop being an insecure little bitch boy.
Women face more pressures regarding what they can and cannot wear. In the case of women’s clothing and what’s considered permissible, the list is too long to get into the nitty gritty. But whatever women choose to wear, or wear because they are told to or think they should, they are prone to be criticized: “That’s not professional. That’s not sexy. That’s too revealing. That’s not feminine. That’s not sexy. That makes you look like a man. Are you trying to look like a man? Why can’t you just dress nice? No, now you look like you’re trying too hard. God, it wouldn’t kill you to make some effort. Show some concern for your appearance. That’s not sexy.” Men and women alike too often feel it’s their right to judge the clothing choices of women, whether they be friends, family, coworkers, strangers.
In all cases, to the people policing the clothing choices of others: fuck you. What’s wrong with you that you feel an entitlement and need to tell other people what to do? Who gives a shit what people wear. When you get down to it, we’re all only animals and it’s silly that we wear clothes to begin with. We should be naked, or close to it, for most of our lives.
What’s the first thing you do when you get home? The first thing I do is strip butt ass naked. I pull off the clothes that have imprisoned me through my day in the “civilized” world, take a shower, then put on a pair of short shorts, for the sake of not putting my bare ass directly on chairs or accidently splashing my penis with hot oil when cooking. If it is a cool day, I might add a hoodie to the ensemble, and if I need to step out briefly a pair of sandals comes into play. I don’t go out into the world dressed like this, but I wish I could, and believe that you, I, and everyone should be allowed. If you want to go to work in your underwear, then by all means do; I’ll gladly join you. And if you want to stroll about fully nude, who am I to stop you?
Now. Let’s be real. Nay, let’s be really real. I don’t particularly want to go through life having the smell of rancid piss in my nostrils, or to see dicks, sixty-eighty percent of tits, and other saggy bits flopping about everywhere I go. That is a world which goes past the bounds of awkwardness and into the realm of repulsive. It will get old fast. But that does not necessarily mean that the idea is bad or should be abandoned. Yes, urine is gross, and the sight of elderly or physically unfit nudity is not a pretty one. Nevertheless, we should be undeterred. We are an adaptable species. While true that this new status quo will get old quick, it follows that we will also grow accustomed to it, to all of it, the piss and the fully or partially naked people, just as quickly. We’ll get over our objections and feelings of repulsion. It will become the norm, and we’ll be the better for it.