SpearPoint Publications

 

Like us on Facebook-Spearpoint

Upcoming Readings

No events scheduled.

SpearPoint email

Contact Mizeta at mizetasworld@live.com, or Howard at fhschneider@comcast.net

Man, I Have To Pee

Public restrooms are not only trading posts where everyone’s germs are freely passed around, they can be an excursion into dangerous waters. When I first started wearing dresses it took a while to find places where I felt safe when there was no avoiding the fact I had to go. Thankfully, stores like Trader Joe’s have installed single occupancy unisex facilities, and taken away the anxiety that can come when using separate sex toilets. Even though they haven’t removed the sexual demarcation signs, Panera Bread also has locking units and the staff will usually let you in whichever one is empty. Many places only have one restroom and it becomes first come, first served. Rite Aid etc.

At a bar, the restrooms are usually quite small and if you have to share it with a drunk that has a bad attitude, you can get punched out before anyone knows there is a problem. In such places I try to hold it or keep an eye on the door to determine when it is empty. Unfortunately, if you are drinking beer, or have a weak bladder, that might not be an option. In large department stores there is usually a little more elbow room, but even so, walking in will get you a lot of dirty looks. I often feel like saying “you don’t have to hide it. I don’t want it.” Instead, I move quickly to a closed stall and lock the door. Whatever comments are made get met with silence and seldom lead to confrontation. I never stand at a urinal and lift my dress with my back turned to the room. Over the years some of the scariest moments have come at malls where you have to open an outer door to get inside. If someone is reaching for the handle on the other side, the fact that they weren’t expecting you can make for an uncomfortable situation. I have had men try to block my passage and tell me I needed to use the other one if I wanted to dress like a fruit. I once had a WalMart janitor chase me inside and vehemently tell me I was in the wrong place. I took it as a compliment that he thought I was a woman.

Although my right to a sexual identity is protected by law, the guidelines for use of a restroom are governed by statutes that state when separate facilities are provided I must use the one designated for men. Out of respect for the privacy of women, I wouldn’t use theirs anyway unless it was a choice between soiling my panties or being impolite. When it comes to such things, women generally prefer a higher degree of privacy, although in Europe many countries have wide-open unisex bathrooms and women sit in plain sight to do their business. I doubt most Americans are ready for such a transition. The puritanical fixations our society has developed around something that is a simple fact of corporeal existence are sometimes quite amusing.

As in my other postings my message remains the same. Stay safe. Plan ahead if possible. Don’t walk into a shit-kicker bar, sashay to the toilet and expect to be treated kindly. Keep your wits about you so that your passage through life is as trouble free as possible. In a pinch you can pee next to a tree much more easily than a girl, although the person whose yard you used might not appreciate it very much. The time will come when simple persistence will make the presence of transvestites in our world such a commonplace occurrence that it will no longer elicit comment. Until then, keep your eyes forward when it’s time to pee. Unless of course you are in a cruise bar or a swing club. There, the only advice I can give you is to practice safe sex.   Mizeta Moon

Leave a comment:

  •