On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page.
I pee with the door open 98% of the time. Why? Because I live alone and when I do sit down to pee I can see the TV perfectly, so I don’t have to pause or miss anything. My bathroom door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to (I think we already covered that someone kicked it in not once but twice), therefore it doesn’t lock and I’ve rigged it to close, barely, with headbands. However, the point is, it does shut to a degree and that door closes when someone is over so I can use the facilities in peace — oh, and because that’s how society rolls. You do your “thing” behind closed doors.
While I have had to cop a squat in front of boyfriends or lovers (I only use that word because Jennifer hates it) in the past because the line at a party was too long, or sometimes your bladder just can’t make it to the next bar, it was usually behind two cars somewhere in Brooklyn, on a dark street and always involved me yelling: “Don’t you dare come over here right now!” I can “drop trou,” as they say, in front of my female friends if need be, but that’s because I’m not having sex with them. I realize this situation is nothing new and is definitely some Sex and the City type shit, but it’s still happening, apparently, and it must be stopped.
To get to my story, Tattoo Guy, who sleeps here a few times a week as I will not be going to his apartment because, well, he’s Tattoo Guy, opened the door on me while I was mid-stream last week. He didn’t just open the door, but stood there in the doorway and didn’t say a word. Of course, stage-fright set it and I immediately stopped. “Do you want to close that door?” I asked. “No,” was his answer. His reasons was we’d had sex more than a few times, he’d seen me naked in various positions, so in his opinion I was the strange one for closing the door. I reached for the door and shut it, for him only to open it on me again. So there I am, in pain because I’ve stopped mid-stream and he’s insisting that I need to get over it. Well, I’m not going to get over it. We had just had sex, we were probably going to do it again shortly, and I didn’t want to be gawked at while trying to do one of the most basic human things: emptying my bladder!
He finally closed the door as it was quite certain that I would not be moving from that position; a position that involved me hunched over and trying to cover myself, the self that he had just been seen naked less than 10 minutes before. When he went to the bathroom later on, he went with the door open, and I, apparently the “prude” went into a tizzy that involved screeches of what’s appropriate and inappropriate in someone else’s home, especially one who clearly finds this behavior, well, inappropriate!
Of course my brain immediately went into a mode that wondered if next on the menu was making urine part of our sexual experiences together, because then I’d really check out of whatever this is. But Tattoo Guy assured me that wasn’t his cup of tea — hallelujah.
Let’s discuss: am I being crazy? Is it ever OK to pee (or otherwise) in front of someone whom you’re dating/sleeping with/or anything even slightly romantic? Although my parents close the door when I’m visiting them, I can’t imagine that they’re peeing left and right in front of each other when I’m not there to monitor such whack-a-do behavior, and they’ve been married for 37 years, or there abouts. Can I get some feedback on this one, please?