OPINIONS.

Need to vent? Contact the editor at opinions @theotherpress.ca

 

A pee-blic affair

Taking the piss out
of public urination

 

By Natalie Serafini,
Assistant Editor

his doesn’t seem like an
issue most people would
consistently encounter, but
in my lifetime I’ve all too
frequently come across people
cavalierly—or at least publicly—
relieving themselves. That is
to say, the number of times
I’ve been an unwilling witness
is more than zero, and is
consequently too damn high.
These unwanted glimpses
into the train wreck that is
another person dropping
trou’ have been seared into
my memory and, over time,
have caused me to become
disdainful of public urination.
I can’t say why I’m so against
it—everybody poops, or so I’ve
read, and everybody pees—but
I’ve never been keen to see
bodily functions in action.
Sometimes circumstances
prevail and make indecent
exposure a necessary evil. Gotta
pee where there’s no bathroom,
you're among friends, and
the thick and leafy bushes are
a-calling? Acceptable. Gotta
pee ona tree in the middle of
urban Vancouver, surrounded
by opportunities to con, bribe,

bursting with other options.
Bushes, trees, backs
of buildings, and public
monuments are there for a
reason. Not specifically for
this reason, but if the shoe fits,
wear it. If the bush, building,
or public monument shields
you from public view when
holding it isn’t an option, take
advantage. My protests only
come into play when I have to
witness someone’s emissions.
As long as I’m not in the line

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of fire or directly aware of the

 

transgression, I have no problem

 

 

 

with it. I can’t have a problem
with it. If you’re doing your

 

 

or coerce your way to private
relief? Considerably less
acceptable.

It’s understandable that
sometimes “holding it in” is a
nearly impossible task. That’s
why you find the best possible
option that won't offend the
eyes of all those around you.
This isn’t Ancient Rome; we
don’t sit around like going to

business away from me, it’s
none of my business.

You may have guessed that
this article is largely propelled
by the little boy in Richmond
who was photographed peeing
in a garbage can at a mall, with
what one assumes is a mother
or grandmother helping him.

I find it difficult to fault a little
kid, under the tutelage and
encouragement of a family
member, for public urination.
Compounding this, his family
is reportedly from a culture in
which publicly peeing is the
norm. He gets a pardon, with
the condition that discretion be
of paramount importance in the
future.

A group of individuals find liquid reliefon a wall | Photo courtesy of muhawioo1 (Flickr)

the bathroom is a social event.
Alternatively, you latch onto the
fact that it’s nearly impossible—
not actually impossible.

We're all human, and
we're all aware that a pressing
bladder can become a pressing
matter. That's why encountering
a situation where there’s no
option other than that of public
urination is pretty rare. There

are road trips where the next gas
station isn’t for miles. There are
beaches, parks, and lakes that
are ill-equipped. The situations
in which I’ve encountered
public urination—including a
drunk exiting a bar to pee in the
great wide open, and someone
not bothering to hide behind
some bushes before popping a
very public squat—seem to be

 

Post-secondary-traumatic stress disorder

Or: how I learned to stop
worrying and love Douglas

 

By Jacey Gibb, Editor-in-chief

Re the past two years, I’ve
used the fall debut issue

of the Other Press as a vessel

to impart words of whimsical
wisdom to any freshmen
perusing our pages. “Welcome
to the wonderful world of post-
secondary” was the name of
my last orientation-orientated
piece, and I did my darndest

to fill it with as many tips and
tricks as our Feature centrefold
was willing to hold. As August
began to simmer and the sunsets
started to come earlier, I found
myself contemplating yet
another instalment to the post-
secondary preparation saga. But
a third piece would make it a
trilogy, and we all know how

16

well the final instalments of
those usually turn out.

So instead of bombarding
you with a list of things I’ve
learned over my time at Douglas
College, I decided to try a new
angle and simply leave you with
one lesson: I’m going to let you
figure things out on your own.

That's right. No list telling
you what to do or not do.

No 1,600 word article on the
advantages of free stuff on
campus or why pop culture
depictions of college have set
you up for failure. Instead, I’m
going to boil everything down
to the simple point that no
matter how much you mentally
prepare yourself for the next
step or how much ramen you
stock up on in the coming
months, you’re going to handle
college in whatever way works
best for you.

For maybe the first time
ever, I’m going to embrace
the “unique as a snowflake”

comparison that parental figures
dish out to aspiring young
minds, but not in a nurturing
manner. In this situation, you’re
a freakin’ snowflake. How you
handle the pressure of a hefty
course load and presumably
some form of employment on
the side will be up to you. Do
you accept that a good night's
sleep is a myth, or are your
friends going to be the ones who
get shuffled to the side until the
next exam break? Or are you
fine to adopt the slacker motto
of “Cs get degrees”? Like the
Rolling Stones said, “You can’t
always get what you want.”

So toss away those multi-
paged brochures you picked up
at orientation, donate the copy
of Becoming a Master Student
that your mom gave you, and
accept that the only way you’re
going to be able to truly adapt to
college life is by experiencing it
first-hand.

 

Photo illustration by Joel McCarthy