Due to my recent public humiliation and resulting immobility – see here if you haven’t heard – I’ve have had much time to contemplate. Sitting for extended periods of times does funny things to your brain after a while. However, there was a time before stagnation and boredom. A time between injury and diagnosis. This was a time of hopping. Frenzied hopping. A time where once I was up, everything had to take place on the move. I have been sitting here thinking about that period in my life with some degree of fondness and have decided upon the hardest thing I had to do while hopping. Here it is. Weeing whilst standing up.
Now the obvious question is:
‘Why would you wee standing up, if you can’t stand up, why wouldn’t you just do a sit down wee?’
Answer – because I was in a public toilet at the hospital and did not want my backside to catch MRSA. Furthermore, despite the best efforts of the hospital, it wasn’t the cleanest lavatory I had ever visited. In fairness, as I was hopping in, a gentleman of questionable cleanliness was walking out. He did politely hold the door open for me though, to wildly bounce through, interestingly without a hint of embarrassment regarding the ‘scene’ he had left behind.
I was not overly concerned however, I’ve been in filth taverns before, I come from up North. Now I’d hopped in, my intention was to stand on one leg and balance by holding on to the wall with an OCD hand wrapped in toilet paper. Two problems with that however.
1. No toilet paper.
2. Disabled toilet – wide room – can’t reach the ****** walls.
Further problems resulting from research and closer inspection conducted whilst hopping.
3. Can’t sit down, seat a mess due to last visitor, can’t clean seat -( see 1.)
4. Can’t lean on cistern, wrong angle, would result in self-wetting
5. Can’t remove necessary clothing whilst standing on one leg
6. Have to use both hands to facilitate, as wearing jogging bottoms with no fly.
I tried very hard to balance on one foot, but my balance is not the best. Narrow feet.
And so it came to be that I discovered that weeing whilst hopping is extremely difficult to do. Actually no, that’s not accurate, weeing whilst hopping is easy. Weeing whilst hopping with accuracy, now THAT is difficult. Well I can’t do it anyway.
I am pleased to say that as I left the lavatory, I personally was dry. I did however have to hop over to a cleaning assistant as she passed, and confess to ‘dodgy’ aim through no fault of my own. She was very kind about the whole thing and when coming back out of the toilet 5 minutes later, offered me a smile and loudly announced, in a thick Brummie Accent.
‘Blimey, you made a mess didn’t you!’
I did contemplate pointing to the gentleman who had visited the loo before me, for he was responsible for the majority of the mess. However I decided against it, as when I looked over he was now passed out in a wheelchair with a part upturned can of Special Brew slowly wetting his filthy, filthy trousers. I was not prepared to J’accuse a chap who couldn’t defend himself. For all I know, he went in after a crazed baboon with a case of the squirts and was not responsible at all. And who am I to criticise? I’d just jet washed the four walls.
So here’s a question – What else can you think of that would be hard to do whilst hopping?
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