As often as I’m getting up for it in the middle of the night, I’m now peeing in my dreams, and the directions I got to where I could go in the office I was in led me to a plain plastic waste basket at the end of a desk in an open room. No one else seemed to mind, so I started with a small stream, then released it at full pressure, only for it to be reflected from the growing puddle inside with similar strength. The spray reached my pants, and wouldn’t be abated even after I dropped some paper over it. Finishing up, I heard a toilet flushing and regretted not having looked harder for proper facilities. I walked out of the building and could see in the daylight that there were still spots I’d better wait to dry before returning to my fiancée. My dark slacks originally had the same houndstooth pattern to match my jacket, but had changed to light brown.
Update: First title for this post was Archie Comics-like “Urination Tribulation”, but I thought I’d work in the boy’s fascination with KISS, strangely deviating from the anime path to follow in his father’s footsteps. Except instead of just playing up memories of action figures, blood-inked comics and made-for-TV movies for kitsch value, at least he might play “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” on the guitar?
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