I'm standing at a bus stop, taking a piss.
Let me set the scene, my left leg rests upon the melted remains of a plastic bin, my right upon a weather-beaten fence, my genitals neatly concealed from every conceivable vantage point.
The bus arrives.
I was caught out. Having left a friends house I stood counting my change realising I was several minutes early. Without my usual companions of biker-cum-pub-quizzer I'd realised those extra impromptu beers racing through me. If i was ever going to survive the forty minutes home I would need to release the inevitable evil force amid my bladder.
So I let go, the tension flowing free, all over the pavement.
Amidst the pitter-patter of my last beer against the slats of the fence I hear and all together different pitter-patter, that of someone running, someone about to intrude upon my personal pee session. My heart races and I question what is worse; openly urinating in front of someone at a bus stop or giving my Jeans a toilet acid wash and making the 40 minute bus ride home a whole lot worse for everyone on board.
Choosing the more charitable route I finish up comfortably and seconds later the bus arrives. I have joined the club of a lucky few
The guy standing behind me doesn't look impressed though.
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