So that full bladder feeling starts up. You know the one - it says "It's about time to head on over to the can. We're approaching terminal capacity here." So I do what any normal male would. I ignore it for a while. Let that sucker build up a bit. You know - get the fire hose up to pressure. I'm at work, see? Work has many benefits including health care, salary, job satisfaction...and urinals.

Yes, urinals. Urinals are a gentleman's playground. At home we have the shitter sitter. That classic low slung all purpose throne. It works great for the ladies and even guys would be lost without it but it has drawbacks. For a crap it's got everything you could want. For a piss it is less than satisfactory. You have two basic choices - sit or stand. If you sit for a pee you are automatically docked a minimum of 5 Guy Points. Sitting is for toddlers and men afraid of their women. A guy really has only one valid choice - the stand.

Standing and peeing into a classic potty sucks. You've got to aim. You have to watch out for splatter. You have to lunge straight into a force pour to make sure you don't get a double stream at the beginning (oh, the chaos that can ensue from an uncontrollable double stream is the stuff of nightmares). In contrast, peeing into a urinal is a little piece of heaven. You just let it flow, relax into it, swing that hose around a bit and paint the porcelain. No muss, no fuss, and (most importantly) no mess.

It's a catharctic experience that I prep for each day. That long, slow release is the next best thing to sex. Well, maybe chocolate ice cream is better. And I guess I'd take a roller coaster ride over a big bladder urinal experience too. Okay, so there are a bunch of things that outrank it but they are not available at work (unless you happen to be the office whore and then that first one is a possibility).

So I wait until the bladder chimes up with "Yo! Let's get this baby flowing. NOW!" and meander off to the john in that semi-palsy too-full bladder walk. I get into the bathroom and what do I see? Sitting. Room. Only. Both urinals are occupied. Both of them! It's not lunchtime. A meeting didn't just let out. Yet both of my targets of opportunity have been claimed by other hunters.

What to do? Stand there and wait until one finishes? That's no good. There are two sitter stalls so there's no good excuse to do so. If I stood there waiting I'd be sure to get odd looks and maybe even a rep as a toilet kook. No, definitely can't stand there waiting for a urinal to free up. Do a quick exit? You know - wash the hands and head on out, come back at another time? No good. I've pushed it a bit too far and the bladder went into prerelease stage as soon as I entered the bathroom. It's not going to allow me to leave with my current burden.

Frantically I search for options. The sink? No! Don't be stupid. My brain flicks through release avenues trying desperately to avoid the only logical path. The drain? Snap out of it, you're in a tailspin! Trash can? No! No! No!

The sitter. It's the only real option. The damned bloody toilet. I did not drink a bongo drum full of coffee to piss in a damned toilet! But what choice do I have? Defeated, I trudge into a stall and lift the hated toilet seat. I release Mr Happy but he's more like Mr Blah. He's as crushed as I am by this horrific turn of events. Dispiritedly I start the flow, just in time to hear the flushing of a urinal.

It's as unsatisfying as ever a toilet pee can be. Watch the stream. Stay on target. No wandering. No playful jiggles. Watch the drip. Tuck and zip. Blah.

Fortunately the other urinal user (lucky bastard!) was also gone by the time I got to the sink so nobody saw the single tear of dissappointment sliding down my cheek.