Monday, August 11, 2014

Exhibitionist Defecator: Bring Back the Toilet

I have written about the degenerate art of eating anywhere, or the uncouth practice of being a "nomadic nosher" who leaves a trail of litter and foodstuffs in his path by failing to eat inside at a table like a polite human being.

Now I must write something about the exhibitionist defecators who apparently have an aversion to using bathrooms indoors.

Be the bunny. Be the bunny.


My pit bull is what I would call an exhibitionist defecator. She craps on command, but usually saves one exhibitionist display for observers beyond the family privacy fence. She loves people and was so praised while in potty training mode that it is no wonder that she still waits until someone is watching when she does it, just in case they will throw a party for her nice work. She finishes off her displays with Allegro ballerina backpedaling that often sends lawn debris flying and then a routine of pogo stick jumping just to certify the shared glee. She never goes indoors, she is the polite kind of dog who will be waiting with her legs crossed even if you leave her for too long.

Notably, she has squatted into the beam of headlights from a parked Durango just to give them a scrappy, crappy little show; she has squatted on the river walk along the casino restaurant's picture windows wherein the well-heeled patrons could get a first row seat to her appetizing shit show. She is an exhibitionist defecator. But she is a dog.

The people that I witness squatting like roosting geese or casually dropping their pants and leaving foamy puddles or squiggle lines in the middle of the road, are not. When people no longer go indoors to use the bathroom, the opposite of dogs and other barnyard beasts, we seem to have a gross reversal. Are we becoming more animal-like than the animals?

It is bad enough that one must sidestep used condoms tossed out of car windows or from behind park benches on a daily basis, or pick up urine-filled bottles and cans from one's lawn before attempting to mow, but when you are walking down the sidewalk and a twenty-something year old man, sans shirt, is facing you with full frontal exposure as he pisses a foamy puddle into the sidewalk, you cannot help thinking that even your dog is "polite" enough to piss on the grass.

By the time we walked past this man he had his pants back "up" to the bottom of his butt crack and his tightie gray-ies a little farther up under that. He stood there looking too self satisfied, and with his gut hanging out. There was a girl there as well, with tight cut-off shorts digging into the cellulite above her crotch and holding a three or four year old child in her arms. I assume that she too must not use the bathroom as a used tampon lay forlorn on the sidewalk like a dead, bloodied mouse beside her, and it was not there the first time we passed through. Another man was stretched out in the grass. I wondered about the child and how she was probably conceived in a patch of grass along the highway.

I am guessing that the new parenting style that these folks most likely employ would probably entail teaching one's child to pull down his pants so as not to wet his clothing, at the least. Even dogs do not like to lie in their own mess. It is all so Laissez-faire. So au natural. So back to nature. We no longer need families or marriages or homes with the blessing of indoor plumbing, we can breed like rabbits and defecate like rabbits and be rabbits. We can be the Easter Bunny if we want to! You can be whatever you want to be, except for--it seems--a civilized and polite human being that other people will recognize as so, emulate, and treat with respect.

Wo ist die Toilette, bitte?

Foreign language courses may now seemingly omit that once most useful phrase: Where is the bathroom, please? It's right here. Splash. Drip Drip.

It is often older "retired" people that like to travel. And exhibitionist defecating has not been lost on them. It is an odd thing when old men lower their pants in front of your women as if Emily Post had extolled its particular virtues in her books on Etiquette and Manners.

And there is the drunk neighbour pissing out of his second story window. Sure hope the dog wasn't playing in the yard below...

Crap As You Are.

I think we need a bumper sticker: Bring back the toilet. But alas, I am afraid fans of exhibitionist defecating will purposely piss and crap on your car for the sentiment. How dare you tell me where to pee! But bathrooms, yes, be a rebel and use them. And please, no unisex sharing restrooms. Breaking down the barriers of modesty between the sexes is what has helped lead us to this. If we will s*** and f*** with anyone anywhere, really, why even bother to change your tampon in the bathroom? Bunnies don't.


© 2014 GAK