My Brother Bill chimes in again.

My last post ended with the fervent wish that I would never have to pee while on the Schuylkill Expressway. Brother Bill quickly replied with the following missive...

Peeing on the Schuylkill:

Someone should write a book. My fellow commuter, Bob favored orange juice quart containers (due largely to Bob's predilection for robust swigging of OJ while at the wheel and his questionable vehicle  housekeeping standards).  Back then in the 70's they had fold open spouts rather than the modern screw cap configuration. The spout afforded full nozzle insertion.  This reduced the challenge to simply insuring gravity remained a friend. The procedure was best executed while stopped in traffic as it required posturing & attention not commensurate with vehicular operation.  Bob reports the process is typically at least messy, particularly if a quart container is not enough. And of course one is left holding an open container of urine until arriving at destination. 

I understand from another friend, Roseanne that a Ragu spaghetti sauce jar is more suited to those members of the gentler gender. That has the added luxury of resealing the container as long as one keeps track of the lid. 

Me, being a Buckwalter boy,  well I typically do not plan ahead until I have several painfully uncomfortable experiences "under my belt". Subsequently my approach is to put off relief until the point of near uromysitisis* poisoning, then pull over, get out and pee.  Along the SureKill that means:

a). If gridlock, I have a suite of spectators who are afforded the complete spectacle of an understandable but socially repugnant enterprise. 

b) one wheel of my ride is strategically selected for a golden shower. 

c) I subsequently have time to reflect and measure the new found relief against the embarrassing new level of regard the local element of my fell motorist hold for me.  Fortunately those days were prior to the now ubiquitous video and camera phones. 

This approach, however, did once have a ancillary benefit. It was a dark and stormy night. I was trying to get home in rush hour traffic and snow in a high mileage vehicle that had developed a new noise. The noise, on reflection, was isolated to either a bad wheel bearing or something gone wrong with a wheel brake. When I exited the vehicle I selected the most suspect wheel to huddle over. Sure enough, most of my excretion was turned to steam on contact with the wheel. The bearing was so far gone it was making things very hot.  I believed I helped cool things a bit. 

That evening I had passengers on board because:

a) the snow storm was bad enough they left their cars at work to catch a ride in my 4X4 Bronco. 

b) They were celebrating the approaching holidays with adult beverages prior to the trip. 

c) their homes were on the way to my home. 

We all found the episode to be a source of humorous diversion largely due to item b.  

Guess I'll have to start saving Ragu jars :)

*

Uromysitisis
	A mythical medical condition employed to explain to law enforcement officers as to why you were urinating in public. "If I don't go when I feel like I have to...I could get Uromysitisis and die!" -- Seinfeld (The Parking Garage), paraphrased