Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Urinating Publicly!

I know that there are some that may say that this, perhaps, is the lowest activity a human can engage him or herself in, and fuck, can you blame them? It’s pretty much relative to walking, then coming to a halt and leaking your own brand of E. coli all over the sidewalk, but gees Louise, do I love it! Aside from my lack of a foetus-baring uterus and monthly menstruation, public urination is by far the thing I enjoy most about having been endowed with a penis.

I could relate the annoyance of trying to find one of my female friends a toilet to dragging my friends halfway across town in the wrong direction in the hopes of finding a cash machine that is owned by my bank, simply to avoid the two Australian bucks I would be charged if I were to use the machine only metres away. So since I have the habit to inconvenience the people I am with in search of the only ATM that isn’t in eyeshot and the fact that all that I need is a wall or a tree – which are everywhere – makes this just one less inconvenience I don’t have to constrain myself with. Now, if only there was a St George Bank/ Westpac ATM on every wall and behind every tree, because that would be awesome.

Having said that, I must also add that female public urination, or any non-conventional form of female urination for that matter, is without a doubt the most sickening and unattractive image my eyes have ever been subjected to, and I have seen films written (and directed) by James Wan! I mean, I find it so repulsive that if somebody were to make an hour compilation tape of that stuff and then forced me to watch it, I would have no option but to turn homosexual until the day that I have a breakthrough with the therapist I will need to hire after watching such horror. Two films sprung to mind when writing this: that scene in The Full Monty where Mark Addy’s character breaks into the men’s restroom of the club where his wife is attending a ladies-only night, and she walks in so he hides in one of the cubicles, where just outside, mucking around with friends and half-drunk, she proceeds to use the urinal to pee and then there is that sequence where everybody is leaving the horse races in Kenny and you see a shot, no longer than five seconds - yet five seconds too long, of that well-dressed woman doing basically the same thing; those two scenes tickled my gag reflex.

So some people make a face, and I understand because in theory, it’s disgusting, however, in my opinion, as long as you’re a discreet male, I don’t see a lot wrong with it in the practical swing of things, and as much as I enjoy it, I would never do it unless it is absolutely necessary. It’s a bit of a double standard of mine, I know, but really, public urination is an activity of the male genitalia which I proudly embrace.

Friday, July 9, 2010

With Absolute Pride

In job interviews, I’ve been asked questions like 'are you a fast learner?', 'would you say that you are good with customers?', 'do you deal with stress well?', and I have always found these questions to be quite redundant, which is only an accurate reflection on the answers I give to them in response - I mean, anybody who answers these questions negatively might as well put ‘don’t hire me’ in bold-capitals on the header of their resume - however, there was always a typical question which I could retort positively with one hundred percent confidence, 'are you a hard-worker?’

I’ve worked part-time for a little over three years now. I've had a few jobs; two solid ones. Although at times it’s been taxing work, it’s never been overly difficult, with that been said, I can say without a doubt in my mind that there isn’t a cent that has ever been credited to my bank account that I didn’t rightfully earn. Why does this need saying, you ask, well, there’s this funny little tale, it’s about me and how I spent five months last year earning money by being a minimalist employee, about flying under the radar or some such nonsense. Why anybody would think of me as someone who slacks off has me scratching my head, I mean, I may not be the quickest of all learners and I am pretty clumsy - how I lasted so long in hospitality is beyond me - but in no way does that say the same for my ability to keep busy. I’ve done ten hour shifts through a dinner rush on a fifteen minute break; I’ve gone all out for single customers without hesitation; I’ve gone beyond the job description; I’ve extended and taken shifts; I've given up staff parties, Christmas eve and New Years eve afternoons, even when I have asked otherwise; so no dick-witted manager is going to tell me that I am any different. I will not be bullied by ignorance.

From the first shift of my first job to the last shift of my last job, I never once thought that this type of self-analytical writing would be necessary, I never once thought that I would need to defend my work-ethic, but for a reason that’s a mystery to both me and others I have told, it seems that I now have to make this sort of thing clear. Anybody that disagrees with anything I have just said, I can say with absolute pride, is sorely mistaken.