It was Sunday evening.
Partner was standing over the bathroom toilet, urinating.
The bathroom door was open.
I was in bed.
He thought I was still napping.
With his back to the door, my devil appeared on my right shoulder. In case you are wondering, my shoulder devil always takes the form of Partner’s cat, Elvis, except with a broken left antler, a split tongue, and hooves for paws (i.e. how I always see it). Shoulder Devil Elvis explained how easy it would be to slowly sneak out of bed, tip-toe behind Partner, and yell something like, “Your mother sucks socks in Hell.” Of course I could scream “interstate jelly crackers” or “testicle pong” and be gifted the same glorious results I imagined in my head.
I smile, thinking how hilarious this would be. Would Partner scream like a girl? Would pee spray the bathroom walls as if jetting from an out-of-control fire hose? Would pee get on me? What if he farted? Would he be able to look me in the eyes anymore if he crapped himself? All of these questions begged for answers instead of speculation.
As I stifled uncontrollable giggles while imagining how startled my typically stoic partner would look when I suddenly pop behind him and scream something like, “booger pants” (still undecided) as he relieved himself, Blind Murphy Angel appeared on my other shoulder. Blind Murphy Angel reminded me of the many times Partner expressed how much he hates being startled. Seriously. Hates it.
Devil Elvis said that fact makes it funnier.
Blind Murphy Angel advised that this trick would make Partner mad.
Devil Elvis ignored Blind Murphy Angel and suggested I record it on my phone.
Blind Murphy Angel said he hopes I enjoy being a gay single at 41 because that would be the result of my mischief.
As Devil Elvis and Blind Murphy Angel each argued their case, I heard the commode flush, indicating that my window of opportunity was now closed.
Damn it. Now I’ll never know how Partner would respond to a pee-startle.
Don’t live like I do, my friends. Don’t let opportunity pass you by. You can clean away pee. You can sweet talk your way to forgiveness. But the feeling of regret lingers in your mind forever.
And if you do happen to pee-startle your loved one, can you please email pictures of said violation? I could really use a good laugh. Just don’t tell him or her where you got the idea, okay?
by Cary Vaughn (2014)