At home, 65 centimeters exist between my eyes and the surface in front of me when I stand to pee. In most public washrooms, urinals are attached to a blank, boringly surfaced wall. That wall is typically spaced about 35 cm away. Sometimes there is a framed picture, many times an ad, hung up to attract us, the pee-standing population. If there is some depth in the image, a slight sense of relief accompanies the process of relieving my bladder. In rare occasions there is a ledge at chest height that adds a welcome sense of space. In even rarer installations, there is a small window.
I've been enjoying the freedom of pee-standing forever, really. However, at times I simply get tired of the small accidents or even the occasional harmless splatter. As clean as I have always been, the stray drops that escape me accumulate in hidden gaps and get on my nerves. For a few years I managed to stick to pee-sitting. A seemingly small sacrifice for the sake of bathroom wellbeing. But temptations are not restricted to erotic avenues. One of my fantasies is to install a urinal at home.
However, the one I really want is just way too expensive, at least for the time being. So I stick my stick through the zipper and enjoy my musings in front of the blinded window in our humble bathroom. This morning for instance, I was wondering about the pattern of light that formed on one of the slats facing me. Light waves generate intriguing projections thanks to a variety of phenomena. When I thought of taking a picture of the light pattern, it occurred to me that until I set up the tripod and attach my camera on to it, the sum will move and the pattern might vanish with it. Still, which of the four cell-phones at our disposal would be best for the task? Why not try all? So yes. By the time I got to the fourth device, the projection changed.
Thankfully, none of the phones dropped into the toilet.