The Cliff Cave library was a place that I frequented as a child. The library offers children a freedom in the form of literature, and such liberties are few as a young’n. The glorious library card could grant you access to a wealth of knowledge, be it drawing books to trace, anatomy books to oogle at, or perhaps an R.L. Stein teen read if horror fiction was your bag. I loved going to the Cliff Cave library, but not for any of the aformentioned reasons.
My favorite avenue of the local library branch was the bathroom.
The bathroom at the Cliff Cave Library was a typical unassuming public restroom. It contained all the features of a standard bathroom: sinks, stalls, soap, hand dryers complete with profanities etched on them, and the thick waft of cheap industrial air freshener. The one unique attribute of this facility were the urinals. They were of the conventional white variety, porcelain, etc. But they gloriously stretched to the floor like a lavish white curtain adorning a chapel’s stained glass window.
The style of this urinal provided a fantastic opportunity for adolescent boys. Before any books were gazed upon, I could be found in the bathroom – inching slowly away from the wall mounted toilets, feral stream arcing across the room into the urinal. The object was to see how far you could get from the toilet while still hitting the target, the target being the oversized urinal. Challenge your friends! Afternoons at the library meant 5 minutes of blissful streams of pee cascading over the length of the room, giggles echoing from behind the closed men’s room door.
When other children spent prepping for a library trip by reading, in order to get their Pasta house gift certificate, or free six flags admission for completing their summer reading, I was chugging water, filling my bladder with piss rather than my brain with knowledge – which, upon further reflection, is quite revealing of the person I am today.
Tags: Boobies, Books, Cliff Cave Library, Pee, Pee Water, Penis, Snausages, Urinal, Urine Streams, Wee Wee
