You know, you would think that waking up with noodles in my hair on a Saturday morning accompanied by the indescribable taste in my mouth, would deter me from drinking, but yet, I find myself already planning the escapades for the following weekend.

As the typical single and sexless woman in the city, I tend to get my kicks from going to the bar in a shirt that makes my B cup breasts look like D's, uncomfortable shoes, cheap earrings that turn my ears green well before last call and the hope that I will meet "the one" that will be different from the rest of the douche bags I encounter.

Last night, I attended a friend's engagement party where I became magically so intoxicated I left the bar to grab some street meat and returned in just enough time to squeeze in about 4 double vodka/cranberries. Despite the fact that I wreaked of hot dogs and booze my relentless pursuit of finding a husband continued. Oddly enough...no takers.

However, I am way off topic (it's the wine) tonight's post does not pertain to my singledom. It pertains to peeing.


To all those gentlemen out there that can "whip it out" (so to speak) and pee on location, I have a message for you that is two words...and it ain't "happy birthday."

What men need to understand is, a woman and her bladder (while drinking) essentially become enemies. We would love to stick around and dance our faces off and continue our intellectual conversations about where our outfits came from but you know what? We are busy. Very busy. Spending most of the night waiting in line to use the washroom to piss like race horses so we can get out and dance like it's 1999.


If by chance, I come into some money in my lifetime, I will develop a chain of bars and restaurants that have approximately 50 female stalls and only one male stall. Just so all the men out there can feel what it feels like to have to pee so bad you can taste your urine. To the point that you cannot open your mouth or uncross your legs in fear of spontaneous urination. It's coming my gentleman friends...it's coming.

This intense emotion, most commonly known as anger, is something that I experienced tonight due to the fact that I fell out of the stall I was peeing in and ended up in a puddle of god knows what on the very tiny whole in the wall women's washroom. Despite the bottle of wine I consumed in the limo we took, I am unable to move my foot.