Intervention

Europeans seem to have a serious problem with public urination in that they do it all the time. During the past week alone I have be witness to not one, but two separate instances of broad daylight, out-in-the-open, middle-of-the-street, public displays of male urination.

The first occurrence was in Prague. I was walking down the sidewalk on my way to the Museum of Communism (which would certainly never tolerate public pissing), weaving my way around gobs of tourists, darting around trees, stepping over tiny dogs, when I nearly collided with a stream of yellow urine pouring out of a twelve year old boy. He was just standing there, in the middle of the sidewalk with people all around, peeing against a small tree. There was nothing blocking his nether-regions, nothing providing even an ounce of privacy, nothing preventing the world from seeing that this boy is apparently not Jewish. I glanced at his face as I scurried past the golden stream and he seemed completely unfazed by the fact that not only were his genitals completely exposed to the city of Prague, but he was essentially emptying his bladder for a crowd of fifty people. Stage fright never even entered into the equation.

My second run-in with foreign pee happened within hours of my arrival in Vienna. I was walking from the train station to my hostel and passed a man standing in front of a trash can in the park next to the station. He had his arms in front of him and his head turned down, but somehow these warning signs didn’t register with me because well, who pees against a trash can next to the train station? This guy! Yet again, there was nothing blocking the world from viewing all that god gave him and tons of people were scattered around within feet of his junk, but the guy remained unconcerned. Fortunately, I was ready this time and immediately looked away upon seeing the stream, thereby saving my eyes from what would undoubtedly have been disgusting.

Given that I’ve become something of an expert on the topic, I’ve developed a theory regarding the prevalence of public urination in Europe. You see, no one told me about this prior to my departure, but I’ve quickly learned that public restrooms are often not free on this side of the world. One can be forced to pay anywhere from fifty cents to three dollars simply for the privilege of not wetting one’s pants. And I can assure you that digging around for bathroom change is rather irritating when there’s a thirty pound backpack pulling on your spine and a liter of water sloshing around in your gut.

So, perhaps European men are leading the revolt against water closet fees. Maybe each time a fly is unzipped and an innocent bush gets a shower we’re that much closer to revamping the urination system. I just wish there were a cleaner, more organized way of bringing about change. In the meantime, I’m keeping on the lookout for any and all stray streams of yellow liquid.