The Amber Liquid - it provokes, and it unprovokes.

Some time back I went to a Sports Bar for a friend's Bachelor Party. There was just a few of us, but the Sports Bar was a happening place, some chain Sports Bar, so it was pretty crowded. As is the way of Bachelor parties we knocked back a few beers in mourning, I mean celebration, for our friend, and as I'd got a lift down with another mate I helped celebrate a little more, to make up for my mate needing to hold back, on account of him being designated driver.

As the night wore on my cast-iron bladder started straining at the seams, and even though I could hang on, with the long drive back home I knew I'd really be feeling the pressure at the end of it, so I elected to break the seal and return some of the Sports Bar's amber fluid.

Now I mentioned that this Sports Bar was a happening place, but what I meant was you couldn't walk through the joint without bumping shoulders with people, literally. When I arrived at the mens' room it was all too obvious just how popular (& crowded) this place was; there was a queue to get into the men's room. That's right. A queue to get into the men's room. I never see queues to get into the men's room, but there was one here, so I took my place in line and waited.

Now the funny thing about guys is while we're (often) very extroverted, there's something about peeing in a crowded men's room that makes things happen...or not happen, as the case may be.

Kettleness (adj.) - The inability to pee while being watched. The Deeper Meaning of Liff, by Douglas Adams & John Lloyd.

I suffer from kettleness. I also really needed to go, I mean I really needed to go. These two factors mean that I was going to have a lot of trouble getting started, and even when I got started, it was going to take a lot of concentration to keep the gates open. Ladies, you may have to sit down to pee, but let's face it, when the flood gates open, they really open, and everything just comes rushing out in an oh so satisfying way, I'm sure. Guys are not so lucky. Sure, we can lean against the blindside of the car parked on a side of a busy highway, and just casually wash the dust off the tire, but when we really need to go, and when we're being watched by a dozen or more guys who also really need to go, we're going to have trouble going.

Now I could have waited for a stall, but I had a mate waiting for me, so when my turn came up I bravely strode forward and took my place at one of the few urinals, and stood there, waiting, willing something to happen. But of course nothing did. I decided in this case, valor was the order of the day, discretion was not welcome at all, oh no.

I called back over my shoulder to the long line of guys waiting their turn, just as I'd waited, and was still waiting, "Sorry fellas, first piss of the night. You know how it is."

The pained groans from the masses behind me told me that they did indeed know how it was. My being there, in front of them, having my first piss of the night meant my time at the urinal was not going to be the average 20 seconds or so of everyone before them, it would be considerably longer.

But my ballsiness in openly declaring the situation (as opposed to gritting my teeth and enduring the calls of Hurry up! and Come on! from behind me) worked miracles and relief was soon at hand. Oh, sweet relief!

So take heed, dear readers, and be warned; if you wish to imbibe of the amber liquid, be sure to seek relief from the inevitable effects sooner, rather than later.