There've been times in my life when I realize things are going a little too well. As a 25-year vet in this game of life, I know that a low point will always follow the highs. To avoid acclimating to a cushy lifestyle, I like to take the necessary steps to expedite this natural cycle.
I do so by completely sabotaging my own life using a variety of catalysts. Whether that's making God awful decisions while blackout, getting so high that I question my own existence, or drowning my iPhone - I'm always finding creative ways to do something that will shake me to my core. Have you ever been driving when an awful old memory comes up, causing you to develop a sudden, severe case of Tourette's in hopes of shaking that thought out of your head? That's what I'm aiming for.
In one particular case, I decided to go to a Detroit Pistons game; Because, what better way to rape your optimism than watch an incompetent basketball organization get the shit kicked out of them. To be honest, I see a lot of similarities between the Pistons and I. Neither of us have any real plans for the future, both of our glory days are behind us, betting on us is a sure way to be disappointed, and we're both probably gay.
The only positive thing about a Detroit Pistons game is the slight chance that I get shanked walking back to my car. Well, that and watching the owner of the Pistons, Tom Gores, hand t-shirts to his wealthy friends sitting court-side during timeouts. It's honestly one of the funniest things you'll ever witness. If you think you're going to spend $10 on a shitty Pistons ticket AND get a free t-shirt, Tom has other plans. I mean, look at the guy, he embodies entertainment:
Anyways, the game that I attended was against the Milwaukee Bucks. Being the basketball fan that I am, I knew the Bucks were going to fuck us. They were going to fuck us real hard. We're talking an eyeliner streaming down the Pistons face kind of fuck. I had a choice: Spend $200 to get piss drunk, or watch the game sober. I think we all know which option I chose.
After the sixth, or maybe eighth beer, my bladder let me know it was time to hit the restrooms. As I entered the bathrooms, I saw that the short urinal was open. With joy, I walked over and started to take a piss. Upon finishing I turned around to be greeted by a father and his young son. My polite smile was met with a bitch ass look on the father's face. He didn't have to say anything to let me know he was judging the fuck out of me.
Now at this point, I had two choices: Continue on like nothing happened, or see how much worse I could make this night. Again, I chose the latter. I said to the dad, "What's that look?" He replied with a smug, "Really? The short urinal?" I kindly responded with, "Yes." The old man came back with, "Would you shit in a handicap toilet?"
Would I shit in a handicap toilet…? I couldn't believe what I just heard. This man was trying to shame me for peeing in the short urinal by comparing it to shitting in the handicap stall. He was comparing apples to oranges — which you can absolutely do but society tells us not to. So who the fuck did this guy think he was?
To make it clear, I have shit in a handicap stall, and a guy in a wheelchair did roll-up. Talk about fear and a lesson learned. I'll never do that again. But to pretend like that's of the same caliber as making a child wait because he wants to pee like a big boy is some straight-up bullshit.
If you think for a second, I was going to let this dad walk away as the winner in front of his young boy Timmothy, you were wrong. I stared Timmy Sr. directly in the eyes and said, "Do you like piss on your hands?" He asked, "What?" I raised my voice, "DO YOU, A FATHER, ENJOY PISS ON YOUR HANDS, SIR?! IT'S A YES OR NO QUESTION."
He answers, "No." I say back, "Then why the fuck would you piss in a tall urinal? Any imbecile knows that if you pee in a short urinal, there's significantly less splashback." Senior then tries to tell me he doesn't want to have this conversation, but it's far too late. I was willing to traumatize the mind of a young child to make my point. I don't remember the rest of what happened, but things got dark; real dark...I blacked out...
According to the police report, I asked the father if he was a beta. My explanation for the question was that, as an alpha, my enormous dick would dive headfirst into a tall urinal's water. I believe my exact words were, "I prefer that my hog only swims in baths and pussy, sir. I don't need him playing in another man's piss."
Clearly, I didn't think this got the point of alpha vs. beta across to the man. The report says I pointed directly at the father's dick and asked, "You underdeveloped? What kind of fucked up person brings a child into this world knowing you'd pass him your tiny dick genes?"
Fair enough, that sounds like a drunk Bigleys statement. But the claim that I vehemently deny within the police report is the part that says, "Mister Bigleys insisted on showing the man why the short urinal was better. Mister Bigleys proceeded to wrap his arms around the backside of the father like a man showing a woman proper putting form during a first date. In this case, though, he was trying to make the man pee in the short urinal. Around this time, the young, terrified son alerted a nearby police officer in the arena. As Mister Bigleys was apprehended, he was heard yelling, "The only reckless person here is that man (the father) over there. Do you really trust a man that pisses on his own hands to raise a competent child!?"
Fine — Hand up, your boy went a little too far on this one. Peeing in short urinals is just something I'm very passionate about. It's similar to someone who gets sober and pushes their new lifestyle onto you. Like them, I too, have seen the light and feel the need to share it with others.
Sure, pulling the old "hands around the waste to teach you how to putt-putt" move was excessive and arguably sexual assault. But I guarantee I did it with the best intentions. As for the child: I think he'll be peeing in stalls for the rest of his days. I do feel bad about that, but sometimes one person has to be sacrificed for the greater good of the group. I think it's fair to say that's what I did.
Just do me a favor and make sure my disorderly conduct charge isn't in vain. Next time you go to take a piss, try the shorter urinal. You're going to love it, guaranteed.