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 sun 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.
