I stopped off in Sainsbury’s this evening to pick up something for dinner. I was feeling the desire for chicken as I was hitting the gym tonight and figured some protein wouldn’t go amiss.

However, before I got lost in the aisles I decided to finally give some attention to my bladder who had been nudging me for the two hours like a spoiled child in a toy shop.  As I can’t scream at my bladder to shut the fuck up, I decided it might be an idea to find the toilets instead.  It was either that or wait until I got home, but I was bursting and I felt a sneeze coming so I didn’t think it wise to take the risk.

“Clean up on aisle three!”

I searched everywhere for the toilets which is always a great game to play when you’re capable of dousing the flames consuming an entire office block, and possibly the one next to it.  It’s always so much fun playing ‘hunt the toilets’ and not at all tense, frantic and laced with seething rage.

Anyway, I eventually found them up two flights of stairs and navigated the six miles of corridors to eventually find the men’s room.  It was right next to a door that read ‘staff only’; a door that I was convinced opened out to the front of the fucking supermarket, but I didn’t care at this point as my nose was starting to itch, suggesting a sneeze could be imminent.

I walked into the toilets, walked around ANOTHER corner and finally found the urinals.  As I did so, the motion sensor lights came on.

‘Fair enough’, I thought to myself.

However, as the lights came on, so did the nearby hand dryer.

‘Odd’, I thought, but fuck it, who cares?

So I stood in front of the urinal with the hand dryer blowing hot air across the floor and up the wall in front of me. This all seemed less than noteworthy….that is until I started to pee. That’s when I realised this hand dryer was in fact wafting the aroma of warm piss up into my face.  Yes, I was getting a full on facial blast of Eau De L’Urine that had been in my bladder for hours; fermenting and maturing like that first beefy wee of the morning.

And because my bladder had been so full I couldn’t stop the flow any more than I could stop the fucking hand dryer!  Yet this bastard carried on regardless, not showing any sign of stopping anytime soon.  No, it seemed to be connected to the lights so all the time I was stood there it was going to push more and more of this ammonia goodness up my nose, burning my skull from the inside.

I closed my eyes and pushed on, not daring to open my mouth for fear of tasting.  I looked like a dog with it’s head out of the car window, only less happy, and less open mouthed.

Holy shit, how much more is there to come out of me? I was peeing and peeing and peeing.  I could literally feel the pounds dropping off.

I eventually finished, shook my manhood carefully to avoid releasing any droplets into this face focused upward vent of piss infused nastiness, and zipped up.  I then went over to the sink and washed my hands, checking my face in the mirror to see if I’d somehow turned yellow.

I hadn’t of course.  What a twat.

I then turned to face my attacker, walked up to the little shit, placed my hands under the vent and it turned off.

Are you fucking taking the piss?