Operation Sheer aka Powerwasher

Artist's rendering of me during halftime of World Cup 2010

Let me set the scene.  It’s July 11th.  Spain and Holland are taking a breather at half time.  Orange slices and gatorade are being handed out at Soccer City.   I’m mulling over whether to rob my friend Kelly for the bracket money or actually see the match out as I walk toward the restroom.  I was one of the first to make landfall into the much coveted spots in front of the urinals.  Ah, just like Spain.  Anyway, I start doing my business [for the 18+ crowd: pissing].  And this young gentleman, probably a few years older than me, takes the spot next to me.  He stumbled in his approach a bit, but nothing too major.  We had all been partaking in that day’s extracurriculars rather heavily by 2:15p.

I don’t make eye contact when he arrives.  I didn’t even look at him.  You never do.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him glance over.  Uh oh.  “Hey, man… What you got over there? A power washer?”  Mid-piss, I look at him dead in the eye and say, “UH, WHAT?!”

“You’ve got a powerful stream there, buddy.”

“Uh, must be the guy next to me…”

I fucking bolt out of there.  Forgive me for not washing my hands, but I fucking bolted.  I didn’t know if he was going to start checking my parts to see what kind of model I had.  I was really afraid.  It could’ve ended badly–like non-mainstream hentai badly.

My response is something I’ve been pondering for the better part of July, off and on.  Why did I say that?  “Must be the guy next to me”?  Maybe I should have been proud of my prostate or whole fucking situation down there.  I mean, that’s a sane thing to do, right?  It certainly isn’t sane to mention to a stranger that their stream of urine and its sheer power frighten and excite you.

As I awkwardly took my seat I tried to mention it to Aaron, my roomie, but I don’t think the message really got across.  Everyone was too busy talking about how boring the first half had been and how much they hated Barcelona.  I just wanted to talk about how much I hated dudes that talked to other dudes mid-stream. Mid-powerful-forceful-stream.

Stream on [to the tune of Aerosmith’s “Dream On”]



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