Last year, I read an article about a bar in Australia where they were having a problem with the men peeing all over the walls and mirrors and missing the urinals completely.
To solve the problem, they put urinal cakes with a BULLSEYE on the center of it into the bowl, and, prolem solved.
It turns out drunk guys need something to aim at.
Now, I’m not going to act like I’ve never been drunk and peed where I shouldn’t — like squatting between cars (uh, waaay down the block) from a Mardi Gras parade — but I’ve never peed somewhere odd.
Like onto my shoes. Or into a trash can.
Or on my significant others’ laundry pile.
But boys are…special. And when some of them get drunk, they have problems figuring out where the indoor plumbing is.
I’m not talking about being drunk and being outside and peeing on a fence (like during kickball or someone’s Christmas Oyster Roast…uh, for example);
I’m talking about the type of drunk boys who get out of bed in the middle of the night and decide the couch is the best place to take a leak.
I’m sure there’s a psychology book about why boys don’t pee in the right place, and according to my friends who have male children (thanks Facebook!) boys are super stubborn about pee pee-ing in the potty from the start. More than girls.
My advice: put Cheerios in the training bowl and tell them to aim. It worked in Australia.
This “drunk boy peeing in odd places” is more common than you might think.
Below are the top toolbag peeing stories I’ve ever heard and one, witnessed.
(P.S. When questioned the following day, none of them had a good answer for their behavior.)
1.) TRASH CAN. I didn’t think my roommate’s boyfriend, Jesse, would ever wake up from his drunk stupor, considering we had to literally carry his lifeless body up two flights of stairs.
But he made his way out of his girlfriend’s bed hours later, went into the bathroom and peed into the trash can that was RIGHT NEXT to the toilet.
He literally aimed less than a foot to the left of the toilet rather than into the toilet.
He then proceeded to walk in our OTHER roommate’s bedroom, and jumped into bed with her. She woke up and yelled at him, and then he got out of bed and yelled for his girlfriend, and I was the one who noticed that he had peed in the trashcan and his girlfriend/my roommate had to wipe up the pee splatters.
2.) HOTEL ROOM. Hotel rooms are probably way more disgusting than any of us realize (and I’ve envisioned how disgusting they are, because I get bored.) So it didn’t help that my friend Laura’s boyfriend, Randy, got out of bed during their weekend getaway and peed right on top of his boots that were in the corner of the room.
They had both been drinking the night before at a concert and she woke up to an odd “streaming”-like sound, and saw him aiming at the corner near the floral couch.
“Randy! What are you doing??” she screamed.
“Huuh?” was all he could manage, his leather boots saturated.
Laura dragged walked him, haha bottomless, to the bathroom and “pointed” him at the toilet, but he was all done by then.
“And, those were the only shoes he brought that weekend!” Laura laughed. “Haha. Dumbass.”
3.) LAUNDRY. Louis was a big camper, and Alice was really excited to sleep in a tent and look at the stars and make s’mores with him.
Not so much camping fun? Waking up to Louis, DRUNK, PEEING all over their clothes inside the tent. Both of their clothes. (He didn’t even leave the tent to pee, y’all. That’s laziness right there.)
I didn’t even ask Alice what they did about dressing for the rest of the trip. Perhaps they found a nice river and some soap? Because I feel like urine would likely attract bears.
4.) BEER PITCHER. When I was a junior in college, there was a bar that had a game called “bladder busters” at this pizza place downtown (See: a game not made for boys.)
You paid $5 to get in, and you had unlimited supply of the bar’s keg until someone who paid the $5 either went to the bathroom or left the bar. Then, the unlimited supply would be null and void for everybody. It was a commitment.
Thus, we would all yell at people that went to the bathroom first and we’d yell at the people that left the bar first, most of them on their cell phones to ignore the jeering.
No one wanted to get booed.
One time, my friend Sarah and I were at “bladder busters” night with a group of boys (one of whom she went on two dates with) and we saw one of his friends who was sitting next to me in the booth, hunching over it, oddly talking close to his friend across from him, looking unnatural.
“Uh, what’s up, weirdo?” we teased.
“Shhhhh,” he said. “I’m peeing. In the pitcher.”
“WHAT!” I looked to the right at him, and DOWN, in AWE and saw he was serious, and turned my head as he pulled the beer OF PEE from under the table and put the pitcher on the table.
It was more than halfway filled and it looked exactly like beer. Bubbles and everything.
Sarah and I stared at It.
My eyes widened, and Sarah made gagging sounds and we finished our glasses and left the bar. (Peeing in a pitcher? That’s disgusting.)
We definitely got booed for leaving, but I didn’t hear anything, since I was thinking the whole time about what percentage likely it was that the pitcher Sarah and I had been drinking out of had previously had BOY PEE in it.
And, even though the guy who Sarah was dating wasn’t the one who had actually peed in the pitcher, she was completely turned off, so she booed him never called him again.