The Museum

After hours of walking around the museum I managed to find the lavatories. Inside I found row of three urinals. A man stood, using the middle one. I approached to his left and was alarmed to find no screen to separate us. As I untucked my penis and held it out in front of me. I swallowed hard. And let out a slow quiet sigh. I stared blankly at the wall in front of me. Waiting for that usual feeling. I tried to imagine a dinosaur wee. I exhaled slowly. I wasn’t urinating. I tried to keep calm.

The man next to me was still going.. trickling.. then going... trickling..

And then going.

I was still dry and my penis was getting cold. The panic started in my hands and spread throughout my torso. I reached a high yawl of dizziness.

I caved.

I simply shook my penis and re tucked.

I washed my hands.

I dried them.

I power-walked out through the door and to the stairwell. On the second floor I broke into a sudden sprint towards the toilets. A janitor pushed a trolley out in front of me. Bottle of cleaning fluids, sponges, rags and a bucket went flying. My right shin flamed with pain. I heethed and knarled out angry sounds.

And then,

I felt a wash of calm over me…

As the tears dribbled out mutely over my red face, I stared into the janitor’s eyes…

With the suggestion of a smile, I urinated.