Piss on the Wall, Question Mark

Two years ago, i spent three weeks in New Zealand with my girlfriend Amanda and our friend Alyssa. There are, of course, a multitude of stories which stem from this experience, and i'm sure many of them will crop up here eventually. For example the time that Alyssa and i got drunk and climbed a volcano, and i pushed her off.

I was reminded of this story today because i was reviewing some of the video from the trip. See, when we got back from New Zealand in 2008, i made this movie about our trip, titled Kiwiland, Ho!. It's a scant four minutes shorter than Braveheart. I was very proud of it at the time, and in fact it was the catalyst to my enrolling in a film school. I am now in my final semester of said school, and my final project is a complete redo of Kiwiland. I'm aiming for two hours this time, and two interesting hours at that; this is much more than i can say about the original movie. Nowadays, it makes my eyes bleed to watch.

So here's the story. The following takes place on March 6, 2008, the fourth day of the trip.

After we left from Larnach Castle, we continued South down the Otago peninsula to this quaint little diversion where one is supposed to be able to see albatross in their natural habitat. That's a lot of what New Zealand is, for the uninitiated; seeing wild things in their natural habitat. Down there, they've gotten used to the presence of people because people don't fuck with them down there. It's an amazing contrast from America that way.

Upon entering the building, the first thing between you and the exhibits is a donation box bearing the sign, "Suggested donation: $3." I figured, hell, that seems reasonable enough. They have to keep up this building with all these fancy lighted posters and videos and employees somehow, right? So i dropped a few bucks in the receptacle. We walked around and took in the information presented for ten or so minutes, and then we went about trying to get out to see the albatross nests. It turned out that you couldn't just go out and see the nests, you had to pay something to the tune of $35 for a guided tour. $35 to look at some birds?! F that. So we left, unhappy about our donation.

Down near the carpark there's another viewing area that you can go to for free. So we headed over there. From that vantage, we could see lots of seagulls, and far off in the distance one large bird that may or may not have been an albatross. We're not really sure.

Later on in the trip, we'd end up seeing something like ten or twenty albatross for free.

But none of that is the reason that i have chosen to share this particular story. So far it's all been kind of a downer. Well, i guess things don't really improve from there, but at least many will enjoy a good laugh at my expense.

The only noteworthy part of our albatross encounter was my, um, encounter, the first of many, with New Zealand's terrible, terrible opinion on restroom facilities.

I walk into the men's bathroom, i had to pee so, so bad, and i look around, taking stock of the situation. There's the sinks on my immediate left, and ahead of me a single door which leads into a single stall. I'm looking around for urinals, stating the word as a question. "Urinals? Urinals? Are there urinals?" The closest thing to an answer that i get is a wall to my right (i say "a wall" rather than "the wall" because the room was not of any named shape) which has a sheet of metal across it. In front of the metal sheet, there is a gutter in the floor, trough-like, with a drain on one end and a metal grate over it. I examine it, questioning its urinalocity. I estimate it to be about 20% urinal, 80% cruel joke that is played on foreigners. Lacking options, i stepped up to the grate, opened up my fly and began to piss on the wall. The whole time, i kept thinking to myself: "i really hope this is a toilet. I hope that nobody walks in here and looks at me and says, 'what the hell are you doing?!'"

That particular scenario did not occur. However, as it happened, somebody else did walk in. He strolls right over, takes a stance next to me on the grate (which is maybe four feet wide at best), and unzips his fly and starts peeing right next to me. The discomfort i felt at this point would be difficult to measure on a ten point scale. It was certainly one of the more awkward moments of the entire trip.

See, there's this thing with (i used to think all, but i've more recently discovered that it's only a large percentage of) guys: peeing is a sacred moment. It is a moment that one conducts alone, in solitude, with nobody else. Talking to another man while at adjacent urinals is strictly prohibited. Here's an easy rule of thumb: "No talking while my wang is out." So you can imagine what physical contact during the act of urination is like. Yes, with two men standing on a four foot grate, peeing on the same wall, there is going to be contact. And there was. At least he wasn't a talker.

Well, at least i'd learned that it was, in fact, an appropriate place to pee.