Friday, July 18, 2008

Washington Post Invitational

In case it isn't already obvious, this post is aimed at women rather than at men. Or at any rate, those women (or men) who wear women's underpants, hereinafter to be referred to as "undies".

It's very possible that millions of you have never been annoyed by the need to remove undies while peeing. This could be because you either do not wear undies (perfectly reasonable -- one of my cousins (and I will NOT say which) told me, years ago, that her mother didn't believe in wearing 'em. I was deeply impressed) or because you have already discovered the solution I am about to reveal or because you wear split-crotch panties, which, I am told, nonscarlet ladies know nothing about, despite having seen salacious advertisements for them (the undies, not the ladies) in comicbook end-pages. Whatever the reasons, this post is not aimed at you but at all your friends and relatives who have not yet seen the light (but would like to).

The solution is this: you prepare yourself to pee without removing the undies -- whether sitting or squatting -- and then you just reach underneath yourself, pull your undie aside and, umm, pee. It's as simple and brainless as that. Most undies these days have elastic around all their edges, and even if they don't, it makes very little difference: the gusset underneath is very easy to pull aside and just as easy to return to its position.

Amazing as it may be to confess this, I have spent some part of my 55 years fretting about having to pee out in the open, while en route to a picnic spot (or indeed AT a picnic spot since I belong to the generation and type of family that believed it was utterly bourgeois to frequent picnic spots which had been created for picnickers, complete with cement-concrete benches and public toilets). I don't go out on picnics or long-distance car journeys anywhere near as often as I used to as a child, but it does happen now and then.

Just last week, f'rinstance, when I was in Bombay, I went up to Panchgani in the company of my friends A and J, who drive up every weekend, to visit their farm. I may blog about this visit at greater length some other time, but on this occasion, the relevant point I want to make is that, as one might expect of farmland that was only bought last year, there was no loo. A and J, being men, had no concerns. I knew that I would, eventually. When that time arrived, I was pointed in the direction of a handy tree, behind a screen of walls and bushes.

This was when I, for the first time, employed the above-described method of peeing without having to bare the royal bum to the elements. The weird thing is, I've thought of it many times but never actually done it. Can't explain why. After all, there are many occasions when (in trains, in airport toilets) the only available toilet is a floor-level squatter. If you are anything like me, then you will have cursed the need to be perched above the toilet-pan with your ankles shackled in a tiny elastic undie that has been stretched to breaking point, while you pee. The option is to partially disrobe. This means removing the undie from one leg, which means that you must balance on one foot while performing this operation, attempting all the while to prevent the intimate underparts of your garment coming in contact with your germ-laden shoe as the undie passes over it ...

Well. You get the picture. It's been a nuisance. And yet I've never, before last week, considered the very simple solution described above.

Isn't that astonishing? The funny thing is, it really is less hassle and yet I must report a peculiar resistance to doing it -- like discovering that I'm a closet-Nazi and not wanting to admit it. I don't even know if it's unusual. Is it? I don't normally discuss peeing procedures with my friends (or even, it must be admitted, with my enemies) nor do I attempt to watch what others do, so I have no existing fund of information to share on the subject. I did once review a book called THE BATHROOM, by Alexander Kira, but that was many years ago and anyway, it did not concern itself with undies at all but the design of bathroom fixtures.

I need hardly add, moving the panty aside is the easier solution to disrobing prior to peeing wherever one needs to go, at home as well as anywhere else -- yet I still prefer to take the longer route (i.e., the pull-'em-down approach)! This reluctance is, in my opinion, bizarre, so I have begun applying corrective measures.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And when you've disentangled yourself from your underwear, here's a list of words distilled from the WASHINGTON POST MENSA INVITATIONAL, sent to me by my tireless buddy Anvar. Some really good ones. Lists like this are a serious JOBSTACLE ...


Contemporary words you should know

Pagerism
A journalist using someone else's beeper

Fartcical
A small, barely audible emission of wind from the anus, ridiculous in nature.

Forlornication
Unhappy, miserable, desperate sexual intercourse between two unmarried persons.

Meanderthal
Large, unintelligent, hairy people meandering obliviously in your path and not letting you pass by

Celebation
Party at a monastery or convent

Deja pu
The inexplicable sense that you have smelled that malodorous gas before

Assimilatte
An attempt to get people from different coffee drinking cultures to live happily ever after in caffeinated harmony

Cantelope
A species simlar to the antelope, who can't do anything

Anurhythm
A song that gets stuck in your head despite all your efforts to get it out

Guiltar
A musical instrument whose strings are pulled by your mother.

Screwpulous
A conscientious, meticulous, thorough fuck

Askhole
An individual who disrupts andprolongs a meeting with an irritating series of foolish questions

Mastabrasion
A genital injury resulting from overzealous self-gratification.

Plea Market
A flea market where you have to beg for the lowest price

Lessbian
A lesbian who's just not quite sure

Hindkerchief
Really, really expensive toilet paper. Like the kind you find at Buckingham Palace

Geekabyte
A unit of computer memory so enormous it can only be comprehended by Steve Jobs.

Foxymoron
A member of the opposite sex who you tolerate, despite their stupidity, because they are ridiculously good-looking.

Aeropain
Lower back discomfort experienced when not seated in business class.

Thyme-machine
A laundry appliance for washing futuristic herbs.

Deturdgent
Suds specially formulated to remove those embarrassing brown stains from underpants.

Chronic Fartigue Syndrome
Medical condition where excessive flatulence causes exhaustion.

Intepid Traveller
A tourist who is absolutely fearless of luke-warm water.

Centrifungal Force
A phenomenon in physics whereby mushrooms are pushed to outer edge of a high speed rotating object.

Infartuation
An inexplicable attraction to someone who can effortlessly and frequently clear a room.

Stereo-type
Keying words or data in time to a Rolling Stones LP.

Turnacious
A singular focus and complete commitment to taking the next street on the left.

Myxomatosis
A condition resulting when toe replacement surgery goes horribly wrong

Feng-shuin
The artful shifting, placement, and ultimate arrangement of butt cheeks to achieve harmony with the seat of a bicycle.

Slovereign
An unkempt monarch

Tequila Bunrise
A drink made from tequila that makes you want to shake your ass

Jobstacle
Anything that prevents you from doing your work

Rambodextrious
Hands like Sylvester Stallone

Edible complex
A man who is totally in love with his mother's cooking

Burniture
Chairs you get from a fire sale

5 comments:

Bindhu said...

Wow! That's an interesting thing. Let me try it out when I go for treks. :-)

Marginalien said...

You don't actually need to be on a trek in order to try it out ... *grin*

Take my word for it, you'll feel you're doing something very odd. It's as if there are codes buried deep in one's psyche which post a huge NOOOOO! NAUGHTY! warning on the front of one's consciousness, for doing something that was considered BAD very early in childhood (i.e., "losing control").

Anonymous said...

heh - waves of nostalgia reminded me of days, nay decades long gone - when i was visiting tokyo - l8 night - riding a local train, carrying my bag on my knees - when the call of many bottles of beer insisted on being answered asap....... forced, and coerced me into attempting to relieve myself immediately - in pants and all that (no undie to tackle) so i let pass a bit of the urea based toxins. a wave of panic as i noticed the triangular lake that had formed between my knees/ thighs junction under my bag!!!!!!! thought i would have to dash out when the alleged station would arrive (or face a lynching from fellow travellers) ..... upon rechecking however i noticed that the dark blue velvet train covers had willingly absorbed all liquid leaving not a single trace...... and i was happily able to release said liquids in short spurts and doses with much glee - piss, wait 2 min, allow absorption check for complete disappearance, let go of some more..........ah me - was that a delight. station came and i sauntered away. note: do not try this on a local train that has no cushion material! gt

Marginalien said...

haha! Believe me or not, gt -- but something told me you would be unable to resist posting a comment to this piece ...

Well done -- I am especially impressed by your slow-release technique.

Your story reminds me of a story told to me by an English friend -- an especially tall, willowy young woman, the type who looks as if she is made from spun glass -- with a very gentle, non-aggressive manner to match. She was returning to Delhi from Nepal and at some particularly notorious border station, boarded a train that was already two days (or whatever) late, i.e., packed to the rafters with human cargo.

There were people parked three deep EVERYWHERE (she said), including in the toilets. Bladders were being relieved by all and sundry, wherever, whenever. Our girl could not, however, bear to squat down in full view. Was growing hourly more desperate. Finally, she was helped by three Tibetan men: they held her by the arms at an open door so that she could let fly without losing her balance and without fouling the train!

Very enterprising, I thought.

Anonymous said...

days, decades, soon to be centuries bygone now, in my youth, my yoga teacher used to instruct us to control our "bladder" muscles by the spurt and wait methodology claiming it had resounding effects for males wanting to extend intercourse capabilities ( being young and all that i thought he was talking about conversation naturally------- i mean the other thing used already last all of 30 seconds!! ahem ahem).

i was much intrigued by the spraying technology of the above mentioned friend and naturally - yet another reason to free the tibetians).

i did get thinking how right you are------ this absolute neuroses to pee on one self. i mean what the hell - the next time you ponder "to pee or not to pee" just squirt away dammit - so what if the warm liquid seeps a bit huh? btw - i run by the beach - and literally wait to get warm and sweaty and LOVE to release fluids whilst bouncing. mind you havent gradu8ed to the nearby orifices yet though and having the pacific nearby is naturally a good 'nuff excuse. gt