I don't see a whole lot of similarities between my dog and myself. He licks himself and fears outdoor activities. I don't lick myself and relish outdoor adventures. However, I've found a common bond. I, too, have been peeing out in public recently, specifically behind the Saxon B unit complex. I've urinated in the Ivy bushes two days in a row now and should I get the non-deferrable urge and the necessary circumstances arise, tonight could be three days straight. Honestly, I wouldn't be doing this if I had not been stuck in the most unaccommodating situations.
Consider:
1st Occurrence
I return to campus late on Sunday, with laundry and book bag slung over my shoulder. I walk delicately to my dorm because, on the ride down to LA, Katie has generously bought me juice beverages (of a variety that momentarily escapes me...grape?) and I drank a couple of glasses full. Terry's not in the room. Faye has my mag-key and won't pick up the phone. My bladder feels swollen, swollen and tumultuous like disenfranchised Serbian workers, having plotted their escape from their overcrowded, desolate prison and decided that the best way out is to blast their way through, pants and boxers be damned. I suppose I play the part of the desperate Russian foreman who, at first, believes he can quell the stormy masses and wait it out. The inmates prove resolute. Then negotiation comes in, perhaps an abdominal message, the rapid pacing and meditation on football. Yet, its inevitable, the masses are unhappy and all I can hope to win from this situation is unsoiled pants. I check the RAs place to use his facilities. No Dice. I try Jean and April's. Nobody home.
"Shit."
The grip is on me now man and there’s no stopping it. I rush out toward the trail from Hilgard, absorbed in the growing abdominal pressure.
"Shit man."
I look left, I look right. No port-a-potty has miraculously materialized. I look for an obscured shrub or hidden tree. Nothing, nothing dammit! My only option: the neatly plotted ivy patch flanking the Saxon B unit dorm windows. I look furtively around. I quickly unzip, vaguely aware of voices approaching me from behind.
2nd Occurrence
Its Tuesday 4:45 and a paper is due at 5. I don't have time to breath much less pee. Luckily, the overwhelming importance of this paper has thoroughly got my bladder in check. I rip the paper from the printer's depository tray. I kick obstructing articles of furniture out of the way as I run to the door. I slam it shut and barrel down the stairwell. I'm booking it down De Neve when suddenly my phone rings. Its Terry and he's calling to inform me that the paper deadline has been pushed back a few hours. I stop the running and smile. Awesome, I'll be able to get back to my room and pee. Only one problem- my wallets locked up in the room.
"Shit."
I'm already back at Saxon and those urinary firebrand workers are back to their old tricks. I try the RAs place again. No luck. I check Jean and April's. Is anybody ever home?! Next thing I know I'm walking back to the Ivy patches. I know there’s no other options, I head right back to the Ivy. After finishing up I see two guys around the unit's corner smoking and as I walk by they salute me with their cigarettes. I still don't know what this means exactly but, in purely canine terms, I think I've successfully marked my territory and been accepted into the pack. Dublin would be so proud.