I Can’t Believe I Live in a City That Doesn’t Condone Public Urination

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By Guest Contributor
Published: September 8, 2009

By Raymond Hammet

Let me ask everyone reading this a question:  Where the hell do you get off?  You all probably pay taxes, right? Even if you’re like me and you live outside of the Holland Tunnel with a moldy rucksack and a collection of Folgers coffee tins and you’re missing five teeth and you haven’t passed a solid bowel movement since 1996 and your pet dog Stan was stolen by the guy that was sharing your space outside the tunnel for two weeks and he’s probably halfway to Sacramento by now, you still pay taxes every time you buy a cup of coffee or a pack of Pall Malls.  So I contribute to the United States government just like the rest of you.  So consider me an equal when I ask you all, why the hell do people no longer condone public urination?

I miss the glory days of the ’80s, when I was living in the lower east side of Manhattan.  Crime was high, the food was greasy, and I had to fight for my spot over the sewer vent.  It was hard work, you know?  I earned every scoop of beef stew I got.  But most importantly, I was allowed to spit, puke, or piss anywhere I pleased.

Those days are long gone.  Now, if I’m sitting outside the Port Authority bus terminal, putting in a long day of work, I can’t just stand up, unzip, and let it flow.  I have to walk around the corner and piss on W. 41st.  If I become the crazy bum with the shopping cart that pees everywhere, people are going to take their business elsewhere.  I’ve adjusted, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy with it.  Oh, and that reminds me, do you all really have to stop and stare at me when I disrobe and get naked?  It’s very uncomfortable for me to be forced to see how uncomfortable I make you.

In conclusion, I ask you all to place my need to piss when and wherever I please before your own frivolous proclivities.  If you want to live in a town that doesn’t smell like fried noodles and urine, move to Buffalo.  Now if you don’t mind, I can really use that 75 cents that I know you have.  That’s all I’m missing to buy a cheeseburger.