Pathetic. I couldn’t even go two whole fucking days. My 5-day detox failed miserably last night due to, well, me. I mean, it wasn’t totally my fault. Someone bought me a beer. Obviously I could have said no but that would have been rude. I am never rude. Plus I was with my lovely friend John and I couldn’t just sit there while he had a beer and I didn’t. Like I say, PATHETIC.
And I tried. I am drinking this detox crap and I’m eating fruit and avoiding everything that I like. Yesterday I ate a Beetroot and mixed pulse salad. You know, like a cunt would. I had vegetarian sushi. And a pomegranate. I ate a fucking pomegranate. I don’t even know what a pomegranate is and yet I put one in my mouth and swallowed it. I hate detox. Yes, yes, yes, it’s only 5 days but all my habits are a habit. I like habits. And when you give up one habit you just replace it for another one. My new habit is weird. I like to pay for strange men to urinate.
It’s happened twice in the last week now. And in the same place. There’s just something about Charing Cross station that makes me want to urinate. I don’t know if it’s the beautiful Victorian architecture or the amount of liquid I drink but I always seem to pee when I’m there. Luckily, there is a toilet there so the embarrassment is normally minimal. Normally. Last week I went downstairs to the toilet lair and I saw a man standing right by the turnstiles. I had my 30p-To-Pee ready in my hand and was ready to just skip right in and wee myself to Heaven and back but the man stopped me. He asked if I had change of a pound so that he too could urine his brains out. My cousin, Patti, used to have this incredibly generous thing when it came to toll booths. She lives in America and America had 50 billion squillion toll booths so inevitably she would come across one every few feet while driving. She’d pay her dollar (or whatever they call “money” there) and then pay for the car behind too. I was always impressed by that. It’s a really kind thing to do. Well, this was my chance to be just as kind. I had lots of change so instead of paying for someone who I don’t know to drive through a highway toll booth I would pay for someone who I don’t know to expel their urine. Their urine would be my pleasure. I gave him the 30p and told him to not even worry about it. He looked very pleased. So pleased that he walked with me to my urinal and used the one next to me, all the while thanking me and telling me how desperate he was to pee. I didn’t like that bit. I don’t mind helping someone out if they really are in need but I do insist that they fuck off as soon as I’ve done it. I will NEVER do that again.
As you know, I did it again.
Last night pretty much the same thing happened except for two things. One, he needed change for a 50p piece and two, I stupidly made a “joke”. When I gave him the 30p he tried to give me his 50p. I said that he didn’t need to worry about it and when he tried to push the 50p on me I stupidly said “Your piss in on me”.
He laughed for ages. He laughed while taking my money, through the turnstile and on the way to the urinal. He stood right beside me laughing all the while. Apparently I had “tickled him”. Something I feel a bit weird about a strange man saying while we both have our cocks out. He then asked my name, my job, where I lived, where I was going and told me how much he was enjoying his piss. The piss that I paid for. But all his talk was stopping my piss from coming out. An achievement in itself as the detox crap that I’ve been drinking has meant that I’m spending about 100% of my time in the toilet (surely there is NOTHING left in me?). He pissed, zipped up, patted my back and thanked me again then left. I must have stood there for 3 minutes mentally shouting at my piss and ordering it to get out. I don’t know. There’s just something about getting patted while trying to piss that puts me and my penis right off the experience. I will NEVER do that again.
2 days of crap detox to go.